


Finding Out the Ways of This World

by dugindeep (hotsauce)



Category: CW Network RPF
Genre: Actors, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Actors, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2014-09-18
Packaged: 2018-02-17 21:39:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2324063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotsauce/pseuds/dugindeep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen ambles through L.A. life waiting for his break, a chance, notoriety. As he fails more and more, his mood continues on a steady decline as does his general way of life. Meeting Jared is a life-altering event, but he can't take advantage of the connection until he gets his life in order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Twenty-five

**Author's Note:**

> I happened upon [Jon McLaughlin's "The Middle"](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LNl2-lSjPbI) and fell in love with so many ideas that this thing just kind of happened. This story is borderline non-AU, I don't know the exact lines here as they still meet as actors and do a lot of the same side projects, but so much else strays from their real life.

  
**Twenty-Five**   
_When you reach a point of no return_   


The first time Jensen stepped onto California soil, he was just eighteen. He took a deep breath, smelled salt, water, and life. He saw yellows and greens and blues and pinks, all rich and flowing everywhere. He smiled regularly, armed with an easy disposition, hopes and future plans tucked into his heart.

When Jensen looks at L.A. now, worn out by a tough eight years of L.A. living, he sees the grey of desperation and feels a sullied curl of his lips. 

He hates this place.


	2. Twenty-Six

  
**Twenty-Six**   
_I was too young to know and too dumb to figure out_   


He’s gotten callbacks before. He knows the drill of smiling and playing the game of being excited but not too much so. He knows how to perfectly turn his mouth to appear friendly but capable of taking a hit. He’s honest in that regard; he’s taken more than enough. 

The casting agents eye him like a butcher’s spread, and he wheels at the scrutiny, but doesn’t show it.

And he doesn’t show the disappointment when they let him go without offering more. His smile is tight and practiced as he says, “Thank you for the opportunity.” It’s surly when he tells his agent the same, tacking on, “To fail yet again.”

*

When he first came to L.A., he shacked up with Chris and Steve, and they were all unemployed, hopeful, naïve, too pure for their own good. In the last eight years, Chris and Steve have hardened and rolled with the punches, and have come out better for it with a handful of halfway-decent roles and gigs across town. Jensen still serves high-end Italian-fusion to folks who wear watches the price of a month’s rent. 

There, he’s convinced, he puts on his best performance. Smiling, eager, happy to please the patrons. 

*

“This is different,” Shelly argues. 

“Different from the last one being so different?” he grumbles, even though he knows he’ll show up at the office and monologue the hell out of whatever pilot will never be picked up. No matter how much lip he gives his agent, he can’t deny that she gets his head shots out.

“Kid next door, pines for the neighbor girl, always happy to please the adults surrounding him.”

Jensen curses, reciting it by heart. He was that exact kid back in Richardson. Fuck all if he had to fly 700 miles and live for years on Ramen just to do it all over again. 

He still puts his all out there, taps his memory bank, and dishes out _yes, ma’am_ and _thank you, sir_. 

It doesn’t feel good; he’s not excited about the role. But, surprisingly, he thinks he nailed it. That fact troubles him for days until he can’t think about it because it’s a paying job and they call and ask him back. 

He smiles perfectly and his eyes and teeth sparkle, he can hear it. The women all-but swoon and the men glad-hand him like he’s their son on graduation day.

“Good job.”

“ _Great_ job, Jason,” another man drops in.

“Thank you, sir,” he grits with a smile and a nod, not even bothering to correct them. 

*

Chris and Steve treat at the bar, even when they point out he’s the one who’ll be making money. One of them is moving up, they all thrum with the excitement. 

The thrill is enough that Chris and Steve are all-but pouring alcohol right down his throat then pointing out any woman. Jensen fumbles out of their grip, with his mind in the moment. Chris eyes him and finally points at a guy. Jensen shrugs but doesn’t move. 

Something tells him to be happy he has a job, but he just can’t manage it. And he can’t imagine doing anything other than getting wasted with his buddies.

*

He’s awkward on set, with the conscious thought of not wanting this but needing something to climb up. His costars are excitable, hopeful, fresh to L.A., and he acts the same way when the cameras are off. He tells them the scenes feel tight, the script has direction, the crew is talented. 

Jensen doesn’t believe it. Can’t believe that they do.

*

He pushes through a side door with a haughty chuckle and nearly smashes into someone resting against the building. There are quick sorries tossed out then they’re both sizing each other up. The easy smile smooths out Jensen’s tension. He quirks a smile right back. “Hey, sorry ‘bout that.”

There’s a tiny laugh and nod. “Already said that.” Then he looks up at the side of the building, takes in the billboard announcing _Fred’s Family Values_ as the show trapped inside. “That you?”

Jensen has his pack and lighter out, cigarette aflame in seconds, and he exhales stale smoke. He can’t wait to have a steady job so he can part with week-old cigarettes. “I’m not Fred. But yeah, I’m inside.” Jensen looks around and eyes the other billboards within view. “Which are you?”

He points off to _Backward Motion_ , looking wholly unimpressed. “Just a bit part.”

“Recurring?”

“Hoping.”

Jensen tucks the cigarette to the corner of his lips and reaches forward. “Jensen Ackles.”

“Jared,” he says with a healthy shake. “Your show any good?”

“Yeah, it’s promising,“ Jensen says on autopilot. Jared’s eyebrow goes high and then Jensen laughs. “It eases my rent.”

He laughs. “Amen, brother.” He turns against the building, shoulder tight to brick. “You been here long?”

Jensen thinks it over and replies, “On day four?”

Another laugh, loud and punchy, and Jensen reels at the honesty in it. “No, man. In L.A. You been here long?”

He looks down to his toe pushing ashes across the asphalt. He’s spent the last four days feeling green and rough around the edges; this doesn’t help. “Five, six years. You?”

“A couple less. Still feels hard.”

They share a nod, mentally commiserating over a miserable business that only pays in dividends when you’re lucky or have connections. 

The door swings open and Danneel, the object of his character’s affection, pops out. “There you are.”

“Here I am,” he replies matter-of-factly. He glances at Jared and nods with a smile. “Good luck.”

Jared nods right back. “You, too. Maybe we’ll run into each other again. Track careers,” he adds with a smirk.

Jensen rolls his eyes, but still chuckles. “Right. I’ll see ya then.”

As he and Danneel navigate the building’s innards, his cheeks hurt. When Danneel smiles and winks at him, he realizes it’s the first time he’s felt good in a damned long while.

*

 _Fred’s Family Values_ lands on The Family Channel, but its ratings never quite get off the ground. 

Jensen is featured in a handful of episodes in the short 12-episode run. The money makes him smile and the cancellation makes him grateful he doesn’t have to play a sniveling, pining, barely-out-of-high-school kid anymore. 

He beams when Shelly calls with a ‘this is just for you’ script and details the drinking, womanizing, reckless older brother type. 

Chris works with him, script in hand, pushing back on him, forcing more to come of the smirks and the leans and the edge to his attitude.

It’s nothing like him, but slipping into Dean Winchester feels like a second skin, and he thrives to show off.

*

Just before his third audition, he stalls in the hallway, no more than twenty feet from the waiting space, and takes a quick breath. He releases a smile and retrieves shades of Dean to talk easy and cool. “Hey … ‘member you.”

Jared’s head picks up and his mouth tips into a not-quite-there smile, but his eyes shine. “Yeah, me, too. Jensen, right?”

“Yeah. What’re you – oh, shit,” he mutters instantly, and fights covering his mouth from the curse or the worry; Dean wouldn’t do that. “You’re here for _Supernatural_?”

“Yeah,” Jared nods, suddenly confused. He asks, “Sam?” just as Jensen asks, “Dean?”

They laugh and Jensen puts a hand out to stop them from talking over each other again. “Who’re you doing?”

“Sam.”

Jensen drops into the seat next to him, slaps his shoulder then bumps it like old friends. Like _brothers_ , he tells himself. “Alright, we’re cool.”

*

And they are. Riffing off each other, shoving words at one another with the perfection of familial dysfunction. Every nerve is tingling and the balls of his feet are begging to bounce, but he reigns it in. He only lets Dean out, stows Jensen away, and then he grips Jared’s shirt and spits his emotion out. 

It’s all but signed away; Jensen is Dean, Jared’s Sammy.

They’re beaming when they leave, and Jared pushes at his back. “Aces, man.”

“I know,” Jensen laughs, feeling elation slide down his back and put a tiny skip in his step. 

Jared leads them to a bar and they suck down beer while raving about one another, planning out the next year of filming in Vancouver. “Gotta buy me some snow shoes,” Jared laughs. 

“How about a parka or two?”

“That might help.” This time Jared grins, and it’s a punch to the gut because Jensen can’t stop staring at the wide stretch of teeth. Jared’s easy and natural there. Jensen’s normally anything but.

But right there, he feels a buzz under his skin. It ramps up when Jared leans closer, nudging, pointing at people in the bar, and starting up a tiny gossip mill.

Not a lick of it is true; Jared doesn’t know a soul in this place but he easily creates backgrounds and personas. It makes Jensen laugh like he hasn’t in a long time. It makes him lean right back and set a hand on Jared’s thigh after three-too-many beers.

*

Jared kisses him against the crumbling outer wall of the bar. It’s not maniacal, and it isn’t sweet. It’s sloppy and laced with alcohol. 

When they stop, they breathe heavy into each other’s mouths, air drifting and burning within. Jensen smiles, broad and bright, just like Jared. But he fights the downturn of his mouth when Jared pulls back and coasts a hand over his head. “Should probably save something for the show.”

He laughs uncomfortably, kicks the back of his foot into the wall. “Yeah, might be kinda strange if the brothers are in love with each other.”

Jared chuckles and turns away, but not so fast that Jensen can’t follow through the lot. 

Jensen tugs on him and kisses again, then mutters, “I wanna try this when I’m not falling down stupid.”

“Deal.”

*

Two days later Jensen gets the call. They’re recasting, found someone with more gravitas, build, height. Someone who physically fits the bill of a tough big brother. 

He drinks for three days straight.


	3. Twenty-Seven

  
**Twenty-Seven**   
_Let's get lost in those hills_   


The one thing Jensen’s grateful for: Supernatural fails to make it through the season. Word about chemistry and not tapping into the right audience floats through the large web of actors Jensen and Chris and Steve have encountered throughout their near-decade of Hollywood. He gloats – _glad I didn’t over-commit myself for a dozen episodes_ – when he’s not stewing. 

Over time, he struggles to properly tag his feelings. He and Jared nailed the audition, they were it. _Jared_ was it. That sloppy kiss burns deep inside, and Jensen relives it on occasion. He’s not obsessed, but sometimes it’s a wistful thing. He likes to compartmentalize the good memories; there’s plenty of room for how few there are.

*

Chris lands a regular spot with a handful of actors no one’s ever heard of to accompany one pretty well known guy who won an Oscar when he was younger than them. It’s on a seemingly second-hand cable channel, but it’s invested, and Chris makes money. He moves out, meets people, goes to parties hosted by hot shots and rich bitches who live on the beach and high above water. 

He drags Jensen along for connections and to enjoy a view they’ll never own. They live it up like they’re owed it. Jensen gets lost in drunken stupors, hooks up with complete strangers in dark corners. In the morning he never remembers much, just looks forward to the next party.

*

Jensen runs into Danneel and they smile together, laugh with the bitter reality of meeting on a shit show that couldn’t make it for one full run. It’s the rule, not the exception, and they both acknowledge that.

“I got a movie,” she brags one night. 

“Anything I’d pay to see?”

“You’d have to leave your filthy bed, so I’d say no.” He snorts and she bumps his hip as they hang on the fringe of the midnight patio party. “What’d you last audition for?”

He scratches his face and digs into his mind; it’s been a few weeks since he’s seen a casting table. “Some romantic comedy about high schoolers.”

She laughs, rough and mocking but with a friendly smile.

“I can look it,” he defends with a bit of heat, disregarding the hard scrape of five o’clock shadow on his jaw. “Sherry says I look young when I shave.”

“Yeah for twenty-seven, not for high school.” She kicks the edge of his boot with a tiny smile to prove she’s joking.

Jensen turns to the ocean, inhales his drink, and grumbles. “We don’t all got tits and a movie.”

Danneel leans into him and picks at her bracelet. “It’s a shit movie about pot, don’t get jealous.”

“It’s a paycheck.”

“Yeah,” she relents without a smile.

*

He’s back to serving the high and mighty, sushi and Pan-American fare for people who could buy his entire hometown. 

Sherry stops in with the new It Boy, grinning from ear to ear. Both of them are.

Jensen fights a scowl and puts up the widest shield he can manage. “Afternoon,” he nods, hands clutched at his back. “Drinks?”

The guy orders a vodka tonic, she winks, “cranberry and seltzer” on a smile. 

The two of them laugh and smile and eat and do all the things she’s never done with Jensen: make time. 

He clears the table while the Star’s in the bathroom. He even grunts as he does it, and she just tsks at him. 

“Don’t you think it’s weird?” he asks with a flat voice and look, dishes perfect in his palm. 

“What’s weird?”

“Serving one client while being served by another?”

“Jensen,” she all but coos, motherly notions overriding patronizing noises. “You come by tomorrow, we’ll talk.”

“What about the Golden Boy?”

“I’m selling Garrett to the highest bidder. Lotsa free time for you,” she smirks.

He spins away faster than he can roll his eyes.

*

His mother calls on occasion, asks how L.A.’s going, when’ll they seem him on screen again. He laughs and brushes it off, lies, says he’s working behind scenes, nothing they’d want to waste time on.

His sister begs for a visit. Spring Break is the best for her; every day is the worst for him. 

His father invites him back home. “If you ain’t workin’ then _it_ ain’t workin’.”

“I’m working.”

“When you start walkin’ dogs, you better be rethinking your career.”

*

Another failed audition: His good looks aren’t enough for NYC’s elite. He’s getting rough around the edges; he knows it doesn’t help.

He drinks with Steve. Neither comment on the burn of a TV above their heads replaying Chris’s show. 

“I need to fucking work,” Jensen groans before knocking back the rest of his beer. 

“Could always play with us,” Steve suggests.

Jensen winces at the idea of getting on stage with them. It’s not the first time they’ve offered, not the last time he’ll refuse. “Eight years. I’m tired of the fuckin’ sun.”

Steve rests against the bar, looks cozy and buzzed out. It’s pretty much his default position, drunk or not. Jensen hates him for the ease of living payday to payday, how Steve is content to play his musty guitar and make just enough to get by.

Some days he wishes he had less drive, that he could accept this life as enough. 

*

Another party on the coast and Jensen can’t help but get swept up in the tide of celebration as Chris and Steve slip through the crowd. Chris’s show is making solid marks; it’s the most promising thing any of them have touched. 

He sips champagne, guzzles beer, shoots tequila. Then he spends time in the far corner of the yard alone.

Seconds from upending his stomach, a hand lands on his back and a voice is easy. “You okay, man?”

Jensen spits and shifts. “Been better.”

There’s a laugh and a rub at his back. “You know it’s hardly midnight and you’re gonna miss the good stuff.”

“Think I drank most of the good stuff.” He spits again, unattractively and without care. He has to, just to get the acrid taste from his mouth. Then he tips his head up, intending to do so for just a moment, but he stares instead. “Hey.”

It’s Jared, and he’s staring back before he’s smiling. The hand slips higher up and gently squeezes at Jensen’s neck. “Yeah. And you.”

Jensen stands then stumbles with inebriation. Jared helps him settle at a nearby bench; it’s embarrassing, so he decides to not even thank him for it. Instead he holds his head between his knees. 

Sometime later, Jared pops a water bottle against his shoulder with a short, “Here, can’t hurt.”

He squints and takes it. Half the bottle goes down easy but he decides to slow down to avoid totally disturbing his stomach. “You went off and did the show without me,” Jensen complains. 

“It sucked. You didn’t miss anything.”

Watching Jared watch him is troubling, because he doesn’t want to keep staring up but he doesn’t want to stop seeing him. He’s taller than Jensen remembers, wider in the shoulders, aged in the face. He looks better than Jensen thought he could. “Maybe it wouldn’t’ve sucked with me there.”

Jared chuckles and sits. “It couldn’t’ve sucked any more than it did, so you’re probably right.”

Jensen’s eyes won’t move; they keep with Jared and take in the shine to his smooth face and smile. He wants to let it all out: _I wanted it so bad_ , _I want _you_ so bad_. But he’s drunk and he knows it, so he switches it all off and looks away. 

“You been busy since?” 

It’s asked with surprising kindness; Jensen’s not used to pure interest, so he stares for a bit then shakes his head. “You mean since I lost my first good shot? Not exactly.” He chuckles to Jared’s wince, knowing how bitter he sounds, but it’s his default position. It’s the easiest track to ride. “Though Rong Tong sushi is killing my feet.” Jared watches him, uncomfortably so, and Jensen laughs at himself now. “Restaurant I work at. Shit hole for celebrities to suck down raw fish. What the fuck’s that about? You pay fifty bucks a roll and no one even cooks the shit.”

Jared rubs at his eyebrow and gives a small smile. “Yeah, I don’t know. Not so bad, really.”

“Oh, God,” Jensen groans, pushing his head back down into his hands, arms on his knees. His brain dump is embarrassing and he wants to flee. “I’m an asshole. Serious asshole. Forget I said all that.” Jensen pours the rest of his water bottle down his throat. It’d been so long forgotten but is exceedingly needed as his mouth trails on without him. “And this right now, I’m not always this big a dick. Sometimes I am. If you ask my roommates, it’s most times. But I don’t want to be. Not right here in front of you. Fuck,” he groans again, willing his lips to close.

Jared gives a tiny smile, one Jensen can’t figure out. It’s either responding to his pathetic rambling or encouraging it. Jensen doesn’t want to know which. Jared lightly pats Jensen’s cheek. “You’re drunk, man.”

“Really?” he asks with a joke. “I was starting to feel pretty sober.”

They share a smile and Jared’s hand is still on his face. Jensen wants it to stay, but it slowly moves away. Jared taps Jensen’s knee and stands. “Should get back in with my friends.”

Jensen rises, swaying only a bit having now found his footing with the help of the water. “Yeah … who you here with? My buddy’s on the show.”

“Yeah? My girl–” and Jared swallows, chances a look at the house, and then mumbles through the rest. “Friend knows one of the guys.”

His stomach is no longer part of his body it’s fallen so far, and his hand rests over it as if trying to remember what it felt like. Once upon a time, Jared kissed him. It was mind-blowing, and he wants to do it again, but Jared’s got a girl. And they were drunk. That’s all there is to it. 

Jared smiles crookedly, something ugly yet endearing, and he puts his hand to the side of Jensen’s head. “I should get back.”

“Yeah, to your girl … friend,” he adds in much the same manner Jared had. 

It isn’t meant to cut, but it does, as is obvious on Jared’s face. His hand sweeps over Jensen’s hair in one movement, slow and caring, it seems. “Take care, yeah?”

“Like I have a choice?” he says with a horrible, unhappy laugh.

On Jared’s way back to the celebration, he shoots random looks over his shoulder and Jensen catches every single one. Doesn’t back down from them. Which kind of hurts more than not knowing about them at all.

*

At work, he keeps his head down and the smile up. He gets more tips for melding into the woodwork and attempting to be pleasant. 

If he didn’t need the money so badly, if he didn’t want to have enough to buy better clothes to wear up in The Hills and on the coast, he might not do it so often. 

But he does. Because it’s the best damned thing he’s got going.

*

Shelly gets him a three-episode stint on a Disney show. He’s not looking forward to it, loathes the idea. But it’s another paycheck, and she insists a teen crowd will do him good.

It gets him a bit of action on the internet. Chris and Steve mock him for it. He’s beyond embarrassed by the role, campy and ridiculous among preteens, serving awkward, inappropriate flirtations both on screen and off.

The star, some rising sensation he’d rather not know this close up, doesn’t leave him alone. She touches and laughs and winks. He escapes and winds up running into her handlers. One guy, tall and firm and full of bright, friendly smiles nudges him. “She all over you?”

Jensen brushes a hand down his chest, calming himself and doing his best to be kind about the star’s power. “No, it’s fine. It's good.”

“Club a few nights ago?” the guy says, leaning in conspiratorially. “Grinding all over one of the other guys. She won’t leave us alone.”

He snorts, trying to not laugh in the guy’s face. “How the hell you deal with that?”

“It pays well enough to ignore.” His eyes rake down for a long moment and Jensen stills. Then the guy smiles with a hand out to introduce himself.

They take a short walk into a dark room and Jensen finds the best way to avoid a handsy teen princess: mess around with her handler. 

*

The handler, Brad, gives amazing head and says Jensen kisses like he’s born to. They hang out after Jensen’s done filming, drink at bars, and fuck in Jensen’s shithole apartment even when he pushes to go anywhere else.

Jensen even takes him to a party Chris tells him about. 

They play it cool, unwilling to be open about anything. But they’re close through the night, handing beers over, laughing to their own jokes.

When Brad steps away for someone he knows, Jensen turns towards the coast. He eyes the scene of tumbling rocks and water wading in and out. For the first time in a while, in years, he feels okay with himself. Disney may offer more episodes, he has company at a party, and he’s actually enjoying himself. 

There’s a hand at his back and a friendly, “Hey!” and Jensen turns with an easy smile. It stalls and he stares. Not Brad, but Jared is smiling at him. 

So cliché, but the wind off the ocean is breezing through Jared’s hair and his smile is broad and warm. Jensen can’t stop staring, eyes wide in shock and fear and emotion. He swallows and nods. “Hey, yeah, how’re you?” he forces out.

Jared’s mouth tightens but he tries to keep it casual, Jensen can tell. “I’m good, you?” He follows Jensen’s quick glance to the side, his worrisome check to make sure Brad’s not nearby. Jared sees Brad and squints at Jensen. “You’re here with someone?”

The question is light but Jensen’s alarmed at the discomfort in Jared’s voice. This is strange; Jared has a girlfriend, shouldn’t care. But apparently he does.

Jared scratches the back of his neck and gives a soft chuckle. “Anyway, just wanted to say hey.”

He backs away and Jensen flinches, pulls Jared’s arm back. “No, sorry. Just … last I saw you, I was pretty shot. I’m surprised you even bothered coming by.” It’s true, even when it’s not the real reason he’s uneasy. 

“Yeah, of course. Just saying hi.”

“I’m glad you did.” Jensen smiles at the truth, alarmed in a completely different manner. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he smirks with sliver of smugness. “Of course.”

*

This time, it’s him and Jared with heads close, sharing stories, brushing hands at elbows as they laugh. He nearly forgets. But Brad is the reminder as he steps up with a fresh beer. 

Jensen’s all smiles through introductions. He’s surprised with the lack of discomfort; Jared and Brad talk easily like they aren’t both in the forefront of Jensen’s mind. Like he doesn’t still imagine Jared’s body when he doesn’t have Brad’s in front of him.

The three of them flip through stories: Jared talks about their cursed audition, Brad shares stories of his teen employer and other lascivious starlets, Jensen add his own commentary. It’s easy and moves on through the night as they drink more. 

Brad ambles off to another conversation and Jensen eases against the railing behind him. He smiles, drinks, eyes Jared. 

“He seems cool,” Jared says with a small nod.

Jensen can’t keep his eyes off Jared, can barely understand the meaning in those words. He just nods and admires the smooth caramel skin, perspiration glistening in the night’s heat. 

Jared’s eyes swing over his face, stall at his gaze. They’re locked in and Jensen can feel the line between them. It’s tugging and twisting just like before. Like the night they toasted to Supernatural. Every hair on his body is on fire and his fingers twitch out. Jared flinches out of the moment. He looks across the patio then smiles back at Jensen. “So, you guys, uh –” 

“You still with your girlfriend?” Jensen asks over him. 

A flick of Jared’s tongue over his bottom lip does nothing to alleviate the tension. “No, I’m not.”

Jensen breathes deep. He doesn’t exactly stare, but he can’t stop _looking_ at Jared. The alcohol has made him a little light, but it’s not bad. Certainly better than the last few times he’s seen Jared. He sips at his beer, wetting his pallet but really not wanting to drink any more. “What happened?”

He shrugs, turns one way then the other like he’s trying to escape the conversation. “Time and space.”

“Sorry, you probably don’t want to talk like this …”

“No, I don’t,” Jared admits. But he waves a hand out with a smile. “I mean, I do want to talk. With you. But not about my mistakes with a girl.” He again looks at Brad. “What’s with you guys?”

Jensen inhales sharply, holds it then chuckles. “You’d rather talk about that?”

“Not really. But I feel a li’l clueless about it.”

He scratches at his eyebrow, fights the truth. “I don't know. He’s around.” His shrug does little to settle him, appears to do even less for Jared. “Though not right now,” he lamely tacks on.

“Right,” Jared nods, head down towards his beer. He sips, stalls, then looks right at Jensen. “I don’t want to step on toes.”

Jensen slightly smiles to Jared’s soft look. “Really?”

“I mean … shit, I want to. But I won’t.” 

He watches Jared, warmth evident on his face. It spreads through his veins at the knowledge: there _is_ something here. He’s not dreaming or forcing anything. Jensen slides against the railing, gets a little closer without being too obvious. 

“God,” Jared sighs. “I _really_ want to.”

“You’re very noble,” Jensen returns with a faint smile. “Admirable.”

He laughs. “Stop baiting me. I don’t wanna be an asshole.”

Jensen’s mouth quirks and he releases a long breath. He feels good, comfortable. He wasn’t wrong. Not at all. “Just glad I didn’t imagine anything. Or that you didn’t hate me after last time.”

“Not the best track record. You drunk all the time.”

“I’m not tonight,” he points out with his bottle aimed at Jared. 

Jared swallows and it’s impossible to not go into dark places with the way the throat works. “Yeah, but you’re, whatever,” and Jared nods towards Brad, just twenty feet away. 

“Let me call you,” he says anxiously. “I’ll call you in a few days. Then you’re not stepping on toes.”

There’s a long look and Jensen’s heart is pounding. 

He’ll end … whatever it is. He’s happy to do it, happy to see Jared in some setting that isn’t plastic and soaked with the rich and famous. Jared starts to smile, takes Jensen’s phone, and puts his number in, biting his lower lip.

He bites his lip again when they say goodbye, while Jensen waves his phone in salute as a reminder. He’s calling the second he’s free. 

*

Brad goads him to some new club, a chunk of the party floats along. Jensen gets good and drunk on the word of Brad’s employer, Ms. Disney. 

He doesn’t have much of a choice but to go home with him, can’t lie enough to get to his own place when they’ve been spending late nights together. He passes out after some kissing and rough grinding, not wanting anything but to get off then sleep.

In the morning, Brad’s up and bringing coffee into the bedroom. He stretches across the end of the bed, one arm over Jensen’s legs while the other rubs along his calf. 

Jensen’s twitchy as he gulps coffee and thinks about breaking up Brad, about calling Jared. He smiles at that. It all has to be done. As soon as humanly possible. Just cut it off. 

Brad taps the pads of his fingers, gathers Jensen’s attention, and smiles. “Called into camp this morning. They’re talking about bringing your character back for a few weeks.”

There’s a half second of bliss, success, gratitude. But then it all flips over and he knows he can’t say the words that dance on the tip of his tongue. He can’t turn the guy away when he brings this home.

Brad taps again, squeezes. “You there?”

His eyes are suddenly heavy and hot. He swallows down any possible reaction and flinches at Brad’s tiny pinch for attention. He cracks a tiny smile, the best he can manage at the moment. “That’s awesome,” he says with a rough voice. 

“I know, right?” Brad grins, wraps up Jensen’s legs, and squeezes. “I know you hate the show, but it’s just a few more episodes. It gets your face out. Will probably get you something better.”

 _Something better_. It sounds amazing, a break, finally. Even if it’s on a Disney show with an over-entitled, underage hormone, it could start him off. And he has to accept that, because he’s been in L.A. for nine years now, waiting for some chance somewhere. It’s here, in front of him, in a package he hadn’t expected. He has to open the fucking package.

Jensen finally smiles and shifts forward, says, “That’s awesome,” with more feeling. He scoots closer to Brad, kissing, holding his face, and crawling over him. He takes the moment for what it is. A break.


	4. Twenty-Eight

  
**Twenty-eight**   
_Hollywood is just another place i don't belong_   


He doesn’t use Jared’s number. Doesn’t lose it either. Though he spends an inordinate amount of time staring at it.

Brad catches him a few times, gives a questioning look. 

Jensen can’t manager a proper response. “Voicemail. Someone back home,” works well the first time. He sticks to that.

*

Just one day on set and he’s bitter. He’s tense, cold, closed off. He’s reminded why he was happy to be done after three episodes. Because this is not what he wants.

He’s on camera in purposely cheap pants, garish tie, and a _cardigan sweater_. It completes the awkward feel of his teacher who knows the star’s parents. Gives the girl a hard time in school all for revenge on a poor childhood. The role is ridiculous and cliché; he loathes the whole thing.

Even more, he loathes hanging at the edge of the set with Brad shooting him small smiles. They say so many things Jensen refuses to acknowledge. 

_Ain’t this awesome? You’re doing great. It’s good to see you here._

He jumps when he can, smokes outside, pretends he has phone calls, anything to keep away from the train wreck. 

When he gets back on the sound stage, they run lines and Miss Disney curls her upper lip. “You smell.”

“And you’re tiny,” he adds absently, not even realizing how serious she is.

“Are those cigarettes. Are you smoking? Is he smoking?” she asks, turning for confirmation from anyone who isn’t him. 

Jensen looks around, tries to see if anyone will answer. They won’t, but they’re not happy. “I’m not smoking _inside_.”

She grumbles. “Don’t smoke at all. You reek. It’s harshing me.”

He looks around again, unable to believe this moment. “Harshing your what?”

“Harshing me,” she huffs. “Okay? Isn’t that enough?”

Pressing the back of his hand into his eye, he prays for it to rupture. That way, he can head to the ER, escape this mess, maybe find a new life on the way. 

*

“I’m on Disney lock down,” Jensen announces to Steve and Chris, each flanking him at the bar. 

“Well, it’s a good thing you gave up hookers.”

He glares at Steve, watches the guy drink beer without looking in his direction. Jensen elbows him when he smirks. 

“What’s lock down entail?” Chris asks, shifting towards him. “That you stop bangin’ the help?”

In between drinking, he pushes at his forehead, wills away the tension not to mention the situation. “I would love to stop banging the help. It just makes it more miserable.” Once his beer is drained, he drops it to the bar and leans back. “They want me to sign off that I won’t smoke, won’t talk back, won’t be a second late for role call.”

“Shit job, man,” Steve says, but Chris reaches to smack his shoulder, with “Shut the fuck up.”

Chris turns to Jensen, considers him for a moment. “It’s a paying gig, right? Just take the check and happily walk your ass in and out until the next thing happens.”

“If there’s a next thing,” he grumbles and crosses his arms. Then he swallows and stares at the ceiling, wishing he’d made just one different decision weeks ago.

*

Shelly shows up. It’s the first time she’s been on a working set for Jensen since he can’t remember. Good news: They want a few more episodes. Jensen wants to run.

She’s controlled and easy, murmuring support to him, “Yes, I know, she’s a pain in the ass, just deal with it, get through it, we’ll get you something else,” while also tempering the show. Jensen sees her with a few producers and the star. He overhears a bit of, “Still wet behind the ears, but he’s quick to learn. He’s dedicated, you won’t find someone with his looks and hard ethics, trust me. When he’s comfortable, he’s great.”

Brad appears at his side and bumps shoulders. “What’s this?”

Jensen crosses his arms. “My agent.”

“Why?” 

He turns back to the scene of Shelly working her magic. “Because? I don’t give a fuck.”

“I thought you signed the contract?”

With a shake of his head and a small snort, Jensen stuffs his hands into his pockets. “I did. Lotta good that did me. Crazy bitch is still looking at me like I’m stealing from her.”

Brad turns into him, close, awkwardly so for being in public, and his voice is low. “Jensen, you’re not making this any better. It’s Disney, not HBO. You gotta play nice and be respectful.”

Jensen takes in Brad’s long stare, knows he’s waiting for confirmation, but refuses to give it. 

*

He meets Danneel at the pier. They walk with smoothies, stop at a quieter spot and hop onto the short brick wall separating beach from commerce. 

“You should break up with him.”

“It’s a fucking job, Dan.”

“You don’t even like him,” she argues. Jensen looks over, and she softens a bit, adding, “I know you don’t. Not enough for this.”

“I hate the job more than him.” He tips his head with a troubled smile. “I like the paycheck more than him.”

Danneel shifts on the wall, folding her legs under and facing him. He won’t look at her. She pokes his knee with the edge of her sandal. “Maybe you should hate the job a little less and like him a little more.”

He laughs, sounds bitter. “Impossible.”

She hums while sipping at her straw, changing the subject on that sound. “I think I’m gonna nail this teen drama.”

“Do you want to?”

There’s a crooked shrug, and he knows the feeling. 

Recognizing that while his entire world is about how fucking miserable he is, hers isn’t, and he actually needs her to remind him that not everyone is failing but they’re also not succeeding. He’s not the only one trying. The conversation holds him together for the moment. 

He flicks the underside of her toe. “So what is it?”

“Some crap on a fourth-tier channel. But it could be something. It’s better than nothing.”

Jensen nods with an encouraging smile as he drinks. “You’re still positive. I’m shocked,” he jokes.

“You’re still jaded.” The words are tight but her smile is easy. Then it slips into something he hasn’t seen in a long time – totally, helplessly interested and sultry. “Oh, break that off why don’t ya?”

She’s staring just behind him, and he shifts quickly, nearly falling off the wall because it’s Jared. Shirtless. Jogging. Shining with sweat in a golden sun. Jensen spins right back with panic. “Fuck, that’s him.”

“Him, who? Introduce me!”

“The parties, the show … Jared.”

Her mouth drops on a murmured, “Aw, shit,” and her eyes follow Jared as he keeps running down the boardwalk. She flips her legs over and drops to cement lacking grace; it gets Jared’s attention. 

He slows, tugs ear buds out, and smiles awkwardly. “You okay?”

“I’m great,” she beams. Then pointedly says, “ _Jensen_ , I’m gonna head out.”

Jensen barely sees her leave before he catches Jared looking confused, stalling before staring at him. They’re quiet, both swallowing. He can’t help gawking at Jared’s chest: full, sculpted, rising and falling with each labored breath. But then Jared tugs a shirt from the back of his shorts and pulls it over his head, covers himself up and gives Jensen an excuse to look away. 

Jared moves closer and stuffs both ear buds into his pocket. He leans against the wall and gives a small, fake smile. “How ya been?”

“Okay. Filming,” Jensen says with a tiny, hopeful voice. “Busy when I’m not gettin’ in trouble.”

“That’s great, man.”

Jensen winces, because Jared says it like he means it. Even though Jensen never called and has yet to apologize for it.

“What is it?”

Another wince and he can’t bother with Jared’s reaction when he says, “That singer chick on Disney.”

There’s a short laugh then a nudge. “That’s great. Work is work, right?”

“Yeah.”

It’s quiet. While Jensen wishes Jared would leave, he so badly wants him to stay, wants him to not be noble like he was at that party, wants him to push his way into Jensen’s space. Force something for them; Jensen’s too scared to make the move. 

Jared pats at the stones then shoves off. “I should keep on running. But take care.”

“I didn’t call.”

He stops walking, stares. “No, you didn’t.”

There are a million words swimming in his head, dying to break out and fix it. “I didn’t break up with Brad.”

“I didn’t think so.”

Jensen slides off the wall and presses his shoulders into it as he looks at Jared, hoping the guy gives him a chance. To talk and explain without judgment. “He kind of helped me with the job.”

“You don’t sound too excited about that,” Jared points out.

“I’m not. Wasn’t then either. But, I’ve been here so long.” 

Jared inhales and steels his face as he shifts on his feet, fighting himself in the moment, unhappy with Jensen’s excuses. Jensen knows how that is; he’s already unhappy. 

“Ten years and I finally get a shot on a show that’s not likely to get canceled.”

“No, yeah, I understand.” The rub of a thumb at his eyebrow shows how little he really does, and Jensen wants to slap him, then himself for this situation. “Gotta do what you gotta do.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, not liking it one bit. He clears his throat, tries to make the conversation count. “What’ve you been doing? Got anything moving for you?”

Jared bites his lip; it’s too much for Jensen to see and he looks away, trains his ears to the reply. “Yeah, a sitcom in Vancouver.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Real promising.”

“You’re doing comedy?” Jensen asks, but it comes out with a tinge of attitude. Instead of apologizing, he runs with it, jokes with it. “I dunno, man, kind of a stretch.”

“It’s got promise,” Jared argues, playfully. “I think it’s got legs. Maybe I do, too.”

“Of course. You’ll be great.” The words sit warm in his stomach because he’s pretty sure of it, hopes it’s true. No matter how little he wants to know of Jared leaving the country, he wants Jared to survive. He hasn’t been this hopeful since he first came out here.

Jared combs through his hair and rambles; it’s endearing. “It’s like Friends or Seinfeld, How I Met Your Mother. I dunno, it’s a mash-up or something. Just a bunch of friends trying to survive their twenties, you know? We’ll see what happens.”

Jensen aches with the want to do more than nod, but he can’t find the right way to make it happen.

In the discomfort of the silence, Jared leans forward but then swings a leg to step away. “But good luck, yeah? I’ll probably see ya around. Wanna hear good stories next time, alright?”

He grabs Jared’s wrist, impulsive and unsure, tugs him just a little. “When do you leave?”

Jared looks down on the hand and says, “Next week.”

Daring himself, Jensen slips his fingers into Jared’s palm. The tips burn when Jared squeezes back. “I could get you coffee, or a drink. Dinner. Something as congratulations.”

“You didn’t break up with him,” he says, sounding hollow.

“My mistake. Let me fix this.”

Jared turns his wrist, closes his hand over Jensen’s then jogs off. 

Jensen turns away. Then distantly hears, “If you still got my number.” 

He smiles.

*

Next week means Jared leaves in three days. Between the run-in at the pier and Jared’s flight, Jensen has two days dedicated to being on set. 

He doesn’t even _do_ anything but film two scenes, but he has to stay and be available per his contract addendum. The Princess eyes him with delight. Brad sighs, looks put-upon. 

Jensen can’t care. 

Both days, he daydreams of breaking up with Brad. Thinks out the words and the faces and the random touches to simplify it.

*

Brad approaches him, turned down, but firm. His voice drops like he’s imparting great wisdom. 

Jensen realizes he is when the words, “changing directions” fall from his mouth. Further talk says the producers are halting Jensen’s storyline. 

There’s a tiny corner of his brain that smiles, but the rest aches with knowing he’s been fired. Yet again, with no real explanation.

He storms off the set; Brad doesn’t follow, but he shows up at Jensen’s hours later.

“It’s not working,” Jensen immediately says, throwing clothes across the room. He can’t find his favorite button down, the one he needs to impress. 

Brad snatches most of the pieces from the air and puts them on the bed, trying to keep things straight. “Jensen, it’s okay. There’ll be something else. I’ll talk to some people, see what’s open.”

He balls shirts in his fists. “No, I mean this. Us. I can’t do it.”

The head tilts and eyes zero in on him. “Oh, like that?”

Jensen flinches at the bitterness, but is more alarmed by how easily Brad seems to get it. To know how it all happened, why it did. He feels like dirt, or worse, packed clay beneath miles of dirt. He’s an asshole and used Brad to get ahead. And then he didn’t even do that. 

“Alright, give it to me. It’s not me, it’s you? Let’s still be friends? Keep in touch?”

He rolls his eyes but then smiles when he finds the shirt. Black, crisp, snug. It’s the most expensive shirt he owns and it’s perfect. “Take your pick,” he mumbles while yanking his tee off and pulls the black one on. 

“You’re a dick.”

Looking up from buttoning the shirt, he nods then goes right back to the shirt. 

*

Jared looks tense when Jensen finds him. At the bar, fingers dragging through water rings, the guy is hunched down. The shoulders are rigid through his sweater and Jensen touches those first. He taps, then rubs gently as he sits next to him. 

They share a smile, easy, comfortable, but still nervous. 

Jensen tries to make it good, but there’s the nagging notion that Jared leaves tomorrow for real work and he is now unemployed. 

When Jared asks how the show is, Jensen lies.

When he asks how long his character survives, he lies.

When they talk about anything else, he’s on point and laughing and pushing back with playful bickering. He loves it and feels more like himself than he has in a decade.

*

Jensen gets drunk. He blames it on not being able to decide how he truly feels. He’s jobless, again, but he’s hiding it. So he goes over the top, joy and smiles, elation. Honestly, he feels a bit of it, Jared drags it out of him, but overall, he’s forcing himself.

They stumble together from the bar, Jensen bumping into Jared. He does all he can to concentrate on the press of Jared at his side, the touch of hands trying to keep him upright, the ease of laughter. 

“Shit, shit,” Jensen mumbles. “I remember promising you a sober kiss. Just one fucking sober kiss.”

“Not gonna happen right now, I can see that.”

He yanks Jared’s arm with him in the opposite direction. “Great dive a few blocks down. They have fucking amazing waffles. And hash browns. They’re crispy and salty and the grease oozes. God, I want some fucking grease.”

Jared stumbles with, but he leads Jensen to walk. “The air will do you good, too.”

The way Jensen turns and walks backward, jumpy and grinning, he figures he’s nearly skipping. But he doesn’t care, can’t, because Jared’s grinning right back. “Waffles as big as your head. And your head’s pretty big.”

“Hey!” Jared says on a short, insulted laugh. “Not exactly date talk. Inappropriate for sure.”

Jensen slows and watches Jared. “You think it’s a date?”

“No, I just, I was kidding. Nothing, you know –”

“Shut up, now,” he orders, reeling him in. They bump noses but their mouths come together, and Jared’s hands settle at Jensen’s waist. Fingers grip there and Jensen holds Jared’s wrists before moving his hands, twisting the middle of Jared’s sweater. He stops long enough to say, “Broke up with him.”

There’s a push of breath into the kiss, and Jared’s fingers dig in. Jared steps further from the curb, closer to nearby buildings. He pulls Jensen with him and mumbles, “When?” into Jensen’s mouth.

“Today.”

Jared stops, breathes deep, and slides away. He swallows and works hands through his hair. He lacks the excitement of their kiss, and Jensen feels cleared of the alcohol. It’s tense, crackling ugly between them. 

“Jared,” he prompts, wanting to know what’s wrong. Hopes it isn’t as bad as he’s imagining. 

Jared’s voice is strangled. “You broke up with him today? God. I leave tomorrow, and then what?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we try something.”

“Like what?” he asks, disbelieving. “I’m finally getting a break and you can’t catch one. You’re pissed all the time over it.”

It stings with truth. Jensen scratches over his ear, his hair, his neck. He can’t figure out what the answer is here. 

“And all you do is drink and bitch when you’re not lying about everything. Shit,” Jared huffs, turning away. 

That digs deeper, and he can’t manage more than putting his hands into the air and walking away.

Jared catches up easily, rushing with those long legs. They fight for possession of Jensen’s hand, Jared looking for attention and Jensen wanting out of this embarrassment. 

Jensen tugs hard, Jared lets go, and Jensen smacks himself in the face. Jared stops a chuckle then reaches for Jensen’s face, holding his jaw and looking at the immediate flush. High on his cheek and ringing around his eye, and Jensen can’t keep it open for long because it stings and keeps watering. 

“You poked your own eye?”

“Shut up,” Jensen grumbles, looking away and ignoring Jared’s small smile. “If you weren’t tryin’ so hard to hold my hand …”

Jared thumbs over the skin, softens when Jensen flinches. “You’ll be fine. Just a scratch,” he murmurs while looking over him. He continues on just as quietly, “Hey, look, we’ve both done stupid shit. You more than me, but yeah.” 

Jensen nearly rolls his eyes, but Jared’s smirking at him. He can’t help but return it. 

*

Jensen eats, thankful for something to put in his mouth other than his foot. And he listens. Because Jared’s bad auditions are much more entertaining than his own. Those were pitiful and remind him of how long he’s been failing.

“I’m halfway through when they finally point out that I’m reading the wrong character.”

Jensen stops chewing and stares.

“Yeah, right?” Jared grins, unaffected. Like making mistakes in front of people who give you a career is no big deal. “Shawn was a girl, and Chris was the guy. I mean, the whole script was _so_ ambiguous – which, you know, I kind of liked – but yeah. I obviously was in over my head.”

Jensen gulps a third of his water then smiles. “How long did you read for?”

“Oh God,” he sighs, suddenly nervous, embarrassed, all the things Jensen normally is. “It was a good, long monologue. Pretentious now that I think of it.”

They chuckle together and Jensen can’t stop looking at the shine of Jared’s smile, the light in his eyes, how open his face is. Jensen’s so used to seeing people closed off and protective, like anyone in the vicinity could steal a dream. But Jared’s the exact opposite. Especially when he pokes and prods, finally convincing Jensen to open up about the Disney show, to be honest.

“They had you _sign_ ,” he asks in shock. “Man, I’ve heard they’re tough on talent, but seriously?”

“She was a major bitch,” Jensen argues. 

“I don’t doubt that. I’ve heard stories. But I can’t believe she got a contract on you.”

He bites into toast, chewing quickly so he can talk, but then he decides that while he wants to keep talking with Jared, he doesn’t want bitterness and anger. He swallows and admits just that. “I don’t wanna be a buzz kill, but I’m just gonna get angry if I keep talking about it right now.”

Jared watches him, tips his head. “It was that bad?”

With a shrug, he focuses on shoveling hash browns across the plate. “It just wasn’t that great. And it all happened this morning, so it’s fresh. Like the body’s still warm.”

There’s a chuckle and Jensen smiles, grateful Jared picks up on the small joke. 

*

The food settles him, calms him. There’s still a tiny buzz kicking through his system, but it’s nowhere near what it was before. 

On the way back to the bar to pick up cars, they’re still bantering, and it’s easy and friendly and thrills Jensen in a way he hasn’t known in a long time. Not since he thought he had a good job, _Supernatural_. He realizes he hasn’t felt this good since he first met Jared. 

With that, he slows, stretches it out. And when they reach the parking lot, he slips a hand around Jared’s elbow, brings him close. “I think I owe you something.”

Jared’s about to ask, but he’s quieted when Jensen slides in and kisses. 

It’s hesitant in a way he hadn’t thought of, but sweet, too, with slow mouths and careful tongues. They kiss on and on, tilting heads with soft hands at hips until Jared holds Jensen’s face. The fingers grace his jaw, his neck, like this is the most delicate thing Jared’s ever done. Jensen knows how that goes; he can barely touch Jared’s back without something surging just beneath the surface. 

He wants to keep going, never stop, live in it for as long as humanly possible. He pulls back and looks at Jared to check him in this moment. Jared’s hardly smiling; if Jensen weren’t looking so hard, he likely wouldn’t see it. But Jared’s eyes are bright and dazed, fluttering closed as he leans in to kiss and start again. 

*

The ride to his apartment is the longest he’s ever known. He spends most of it with his eyes plastered to the rear view mirror, making sure Jared’s following. 

There’s fear under the exhilaration. Jared’s been working, regularly busy with some project or another. Nothing to put him up in lights, but it’s more than Jensen and he likely has a better place for them to end up at. Yet Jensen’s is closer, Chris and Steve have a gig, and they agreed with tiny smiles that it was more than enough. 

Inside the bedroom, Jensen’s pushing clothes away, ones he’d tossed there in a panic of not finding the shirt he’s now wearing. Ones Brad had rearranged just before they split. It halts him; just hours ago, Brad was standing right there.

Jared seems nervous, tentative in the doorway, and it gets worse when Jensen stops and just looks at him. “What?” Jared asks.

Jensen drops his hands, shirts falling back to the bed. He rubs a hand over his face, a thumb over his chin. He’s such an asshole and he knows it. He’s been making crap decisions with the shitty hand that life’s dealt him since he got to L.A. He’s afraid this will be one more. To take Jared in this room and let him run off to Vancouver tomorrow.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

He snaps back to Jared and breathes deep, trying to push it all down but it just spills out. “You’re gonna punch me, I know it. But, it happened in here. Brad stood right there and I told him it was over, then put this shirt on and ran out to meet you.”

Jared watches him for a few moments, smiles a little. “It’s a really nice shirt.”

Jensen chuckles, and as he walks through the room, he nudges Jared to follow him. 

The balcony has a shitty view of his rundown street. Neon lights glare for laundromats and liquor stores. Any other day, Jensen stands out here to smoke and drink and curse his entire existence. Right now, he breathes fresh air, watches it whip through Jared’s hair, and reaches out to touch. His fingers tuck strands behind Jared’s ear, and Jared smiles brilliantly; Jensen’s heart flares and pumps hard. 

He pulls away and inhales, holds it, then asks, “You thirsty?”

“Sure. Whatever you’ve got.”

Jensen nods, heading inside. “Don’t look out for too long. I’d hate for you to envy the view,” he jokes to cover his nerves.

Jared laughs, calls back, “Don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s a great view.”

He leans out from the kitchen and Jared’s looking at him intently. It’s a short walk back out and he hands a bottle over with a tight smirk. “Shut up. You’re making me sick.”

They both lean on the railing and there’s a clash of elbows and quiet chuckles as they drink. Jensen turns his back to the street and watches Jared watch him. Jared puts his bottle down then moves towards Jensen. “Really is a great view,” he says with a tiny smile. 

“You’re such a charmer,” Jensen says with a flat voice. “Go on.”

He laughs but gets even closer, taking Jensen’s beer from his hand and setting it next to his on a side table. He slides back in and the wind flicks his hair. 

Jensen pushes it from Jared’s face. His hand holds carefully, fingers pressed into Jared’s neck as he pulls him close, noses his cheek. His guard – a stern wall he built brick by brick over the last eight years – starts to shake and crumble, dust slips down, he can feel it. “God,” he whispers at Jared’s lips. 

“What?”

He nips at Jared’s mouth then shifts enough to take him in. His heart thuds and eyes nearly cross with the effort to see Jared’s face and eyes and lips and even that mole on his cheek that Jensen wants to touch. He smirks just a little at the thought, then says, “You’re gorgeous.” After a long breath, he looks right into Jared’s eyes. “It’s ridiculous, you know that? Since day one, but better.”

“And you’re not even drunk,” Jared says with a tiny twitch of his lips. 

“Shut up,” he grumbles but he shuts Jared up with a kiss. 

*

They make out for what feels like hours, Jensen doesn’t even bother checking. It’s slow and warm and gentle. 

Whenever they break for air, they stand close, talk quietly, and joke together. Jared smiles and Jensen’s nerves tingle and he shivers a little each time. 

He thrills with it, feels Jared slipping just under his skin, and in an instant he wants to be whoever it is that Jared sees in him. He wants to have this moment last a lifetime, doesn’t even care that he’s only touching Jared through two layers of cotton and Jared’s not bothering to push it either. Especially when they just kiss again and again and again.

It stops for good when the front door crashes open, smacking the wall behind it, and Chris and Steve tumble in. They move closer to the balcony, laughing and smiling, cracking jokes about Jensen having company and thin walls. 

Jensen talks under his breath, cursing them. Jared rolls with it. “I could go for something to drink, water maybe? My throat’s getting a li’l dry,” Jared says with a smile. 

“Okay, right,” he nods, moving back inside. He rubs over his mouth, trying to hide his smile from his roommates, and gets him and Jared a glass of water each. 

Steve pushes at Jensen’s shoulder as he leaves the kitchen. Then he smirks and Jensen, again, buries a smile. 

Jared’s on the couch and flips the TV on. The guys escape to their rooms, and Jensen only shoots a quick look to the closed doors before settling next to Jared. They sit close, touching from shoulder to knee, and it’s warm and comfortable. 

*

In the morning, Jensen stretches on the couch and finds the sun shining in through the balcony. Then he realizes he’s alone. Less than a minute later, Jared comes from the bathroom and gives a small smile. “Hey, morning,” he murmurs with an awkward smile. “I was just about to head out.”

He shuffles to his feet. “Okay, yeah,” he says tightly, guard slipping back up. All they’d done was sleep on the couch, kissing to the point that Jensen’s stubble marked up Jared’s face, as is obvious right then. He smirks at that, but then stands and wipes palms over his stomach to calm his nerves. “I’ll walk you out.”

“No, it’s okay. You can go back to sleep.”

“I want to,” rushes out before Jensen stops it. 

Jared watches him for a moment then dips his head with a smile and grabs his shoes off the floor by the coffee table. “Okay, alright.”

They amble down the tiny stairwell, Jensen behind Jared. Jensen wants to reach out and touch but he restrains himself. Jared’s leaving for who knows how many months. He can’t let himself get too deep. 

Jared turns when he reaches the ground while Jensen’s still two steps up. He smiles, small and gentle, and puts his hands on the railings, pushing up and kissing. It’s just as gentle as his smile is, and Jensen kisses right back. 

His chest tightens and he can’t control his hands slipping over Jared’s neck, one going into his hair. But then he stops kissing and touching and gives a short, nearly angry chuckle. 

“What?” Jared asks, looking over Jensen’s face again and again.

“Just … my luck, you know?” he admits, though he steels his voice so there’s no real emotion to it. “Finally get to hang with you and you’re off today.”

“At least it happened, right? Gotta live in the moment.”

Jensen swallows and tries to not show his emotions, but he can’t stop watching Jared. Especially when he smiles and Jensen’s heart thumps hard. 

“I’ll call you. Don’t know when, but I will.” Then Jared moves back in for a quick kiss, just a press of lips, affectionate and encouraging.

Jensen watches Jared walk away. He’s comforted when Jared flashes a quick smile over his shoulder. Then he’s in his car and driving off.

*

Jared doesn’t call for a month, though he does send a text here and there. Just casual comments that relate to conversations they’d had.

_Remember the old guy with the appletini? Found his brother … just ordered a cosmo._

_Your old Disney boss? Pre-empted for curling. Canada rules!_

Jensen reels at the messages and listens to Jared’s voicemail on repeat. 

*

The show takes off instantly. It’s quirky and never takes itself seriously. Its stars are outrageously beautiful, a few put Jared to shame. 

Jensen can’t stop watching; he tapes all the episodes, replays them when Chris and Steve are out. He’s bordering on obsession when he mouths along with the dialogue and chuckles just before each punchline. 

He’s proud of Jared, that’s for sure. Happy that he’s found himself some success. But there is still a part of his brain that houses a tiny dose of jealousy.

*

It takes weeks of playing voicemail tag, but the holidays are upon them and Jared talks about coming back to celebrate. 

That’s when everything changes.

Jensen hasn’t had a paying acting job since Disney; he’s run through local bars, picking up bartending shifts here and there just to pay the rent; he mostly lives off rice and dollar tacos. He can’t be like this when Jared’s back in town.

He signs up with a temp agency and puts in a few days a week at random business. He mans reception, files paperwork in dusty warehouses, covers security desks. Whatever he can to make more than peanuts and feel like a member of the working class. 

Jared spends a long weekend in L.A. but visits with family and friends on the far end of the city while Jensen waits for even one hour to see him.

He gets it on the last night. Jensen splurges on a nice leather coat, jeans, and shirt, and rents an SUV so he doesn’t have to coast through town with his beat-up sedan. They meet at a place in The Hills, a house party by one of Jared’s co-stars. They’re all celebrating the fact that the show’s a success, blasting the cast to stardom, and because they can.

*

For the first time since he’s been in L.A., Jensen isn’t embarrassed when he pulls up to valet. Before he gets out, he tugs the rental key chain off, then pops out of the car and tosses the key with a smug look. He cruises up the sidewalk and inside, eying the crowd in the front hall and how it stretches further into the house. 

Jared’s on the back patio, feet from the pool where a dozen party kids are half-clothed and soaked, obviously wasted even though it’s not yet midnight. He has an arm around a tall, lanky blond, one Jensen recognizes from the show. There’s first a flash of worry at the scene then a tiny itch of nervousness at seeing stars, ones who are all over his TV and obtaining credibility and fame like he’s all-but begged for. But then it’s for Jared; he hasn’t seen him in nearly four months; he wonders how easy it really will be to hang out, to be near him and unable to touch or kiss or show any intention with so many people around. 

As he nears, a few heads turn, smile, and eye him like he’s some hot shot. It warms him over to know they don’t look at him like some hanger-on, like he’s been for the last few years. Tonight, he’s dressed like them, fashioned of the same expensive cloth, and viewed to be as great as they are. 

“Hey, there,” a girl murmurs with a sultry smile, and he just nods as he passes, ignoring the swipe of her hand over his back. 

Then the blond turns, eyes him as he steps up to the group while the conversation continues on. 

“Hi,” she says easily but Jensen can hear a tinge of annoyance.

He nods with a short hi then rubs a hand over his stomach and under his jacket. She tracks the movement then eyes him again. 

“Hey!” Jared suddenly calls, nudging her out of the way. He draws Jensen into a hug, pats his back, and as he moves away, he gives a short, playful smack to his cheek. “How’re you doing?”

Jensen grins, can’t stop it, and then flushes with the rest of Jared’s crowd watching him. “I’m good, real good.” He nods at the group and smiles tightly. “Hey. I’m Jensen. Friend of Jared’s.”

They’re friendly enough, but turn into their own conversations and the blonde smirks at him. “So, _you’re_ Jensen. That’s interesting.”

He scratches at his chest and looks around before glancing at Jared. “Yeah, how so?”

“I dunno … Jared said you were an actor and I hardly recognize you.”

“God, shut up,” Jared groans. “This is Katie. She’s the crazy bitch on the show.” Then he pushes his drink into Jensen’s hand before tugging on his other wrist. “Let’s find more to drink.” 

He drags Jensen through the crowd, rambling on about Katie being a good friend on set, that she’s not really a bitch, but she’s sarcastic and goofy and well on her way to wasted, she’s to be ignored. Jensen chuckles and follows to the bar inside, down to the basement, out to the side garden. 

Through their movements, the crowd shifts for Jared but eyes Jensen and he feels every inch of skin tighten, feels guarded and uneasy. It doesn’t let up once they’re outside, not even when he gulps half his drink. 

He finishes it off and then grabs the second glass that he’d brought with, expecting to catch up with the party. As he sips, Jared’s quiet and looking around. He smiles at Jensen, calm and happy. “You look really good. Must be busy, huh?”

Jensen chuckles, thinking about how little he’s gone out lately. How he just sleeps and works his way through the day and barely even hits the bars anymore. He spends too much time in offices with a tie strangling him, or in his room with Jared on TV. “Something like that.”

“Any good jobs come up?”

He frowns and sighs. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

There’s a loud splash from the pool and plenty of hollering and happy screams. Music surges up and Jensen imagines the starlets and golden-tinged elite going crazy. Even though he spent the last two years trying to fit into these parties, he wants to be as far away as possible. Turning from Jared, he drinks then pushes that hand against his forehead. “I just … I’d rather anything else.”

“Hey, what’s up?” Jared asks, suddenly behind him, hand on his shoulder and coaxing him to turn around.

Jensen faces Jared, grabs his elbow, and breathes deep. “You wanna get outta here?”

“Where?”

“Anywhere?” he laughs awkwardly. “I got a truck, we can off-road down The Hills, cruise the beach, whatever.”

“Must be working well if you got yourself a truck,” Jared smiles. 

He gulps with the knowledge of the rental key chain in his pocket, but then slowly smiles and leans into Jared. He kisses his jaw, a few inches up, and finally at his mouth, thankful that Jared’s so easily distracted.

*

They stop at the edge of a park a few miles from the party; it’s the first quiet, low-lit place they pass. Jared cracks a joke about how nice the truck is, that Jensen must be doing some real fine work to get this kind of money. Jensen shifts over the armrest and kisses him. 

Their breathing is loud and hot as they kiss and hands roam. The second Jared’s hand slips over Jensen’s hip and tugs him closer, Jensen pulls back, chest heaving, and nods towards the backseat.

Jared laughs, but he follows, crawling back and helping Jensen to push the back bench seat up against the front seats. Jared crouches low and pulls his shirt up and Jensen can’t help but stare at the ripple of muscles as he moves. He still remembers the day on the pier with Jared shirtless and jogging, but this is entirely different. This time he can touch, and he reaches out, first with fingers then his mouth, licking and sucking at Jared’s chest up to his collarbone and finally his mouth. Every inch is salty and warm and Jared. 

As they kiss, Jared tugs on Jensen’s jacket, and when that’s gone, he pulls the shirt off, too. Jared kisses along his shoulder, mouths at the skin leading back up to his neck, and Jensen reaches into Jared’s pants and flinches when Jared does. But then Jared rolls into Jensen’s hand and groans at the contact. Jensen squeezes, strokes, can’t get the pants down quick enough. 

Jensen slips over him, sits across his lap and keeps kissing, grinding down as they both fumble with his belt and fly. Jared pulls him out and palms them together, and Jensen wants to cry out with the sensation. He groans, tipping his head back before hiding his face in Jared’s neck. He licks along the pulsing veins of his neck as Jared strokes them. Jared’s other hand is splayed across Jensen’s lower back, pulling him in closer as they slide together. 

“Hey,” Jared murmurs, turning his head into Jensen. “Hey. Come here.” He’s kissing along the side of Jensen’s face, his ear, then reaches for Jensen’s face and bring him closer to mouth along his jaw, and pushes into Jensen’s lips, tongue warm and wet. 

Jensen clenches his eyes tight and kisses with all he has, focusing only on Jared’s mouth and hand, working them closer, together. 

Jared starts humming, tiny moans as his hand stutters and then he nearly bites at Jensen’s mouth. Jensen watches him come, mouth falling open and eyes dazed, and Jensen can’t help but revel at it. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Jensen pants, grinding down hard. “Just like this.” He moves faster as his heart thuds in his chest and his mind can’t contain itself. Jensen wants so much right here, and Jared looking at him with hazy eyes is just the beginning. 

Jared nips at Jensen’s mouth, whispering to get Jensen off, and it’s doing everything just right because Jared can barely string all the words together before Jensen comes, groaning into Jared’s mouth.

He moves to the side, face down and breathless. When Jared stretches with hands above his head, fingers barely touch Jensen’s hand, but Jensen reaches for them, tangling his hand with Jared’s.

*

Jensen waits out all of December for word of Jared’s Christmas plans. Jared goes to Texas, and Jensen thinks of going home, too. But pulls himself back when he worries of Jared’s response to such a thing. He doesn’t want to push himself onto Jared, wants to let Jared set the real pace, even when there really isn’t one at all. 

His mother calls a week ahead of time to discuss costs of airfare then offers to split the ticket. He goes, but doesn’t tell Jared. 

It’s a quiet, awkward holiday as he talks about his day job in an office and the family eyes him. He imagines their quiet judgment for his staying in L.A. this long and working nine to five. 

His reprieve comes with two texts from Jared. On December 25th: _Merry Christmas._

One week later: _It’s midnight. I’d kiss you right now._

He replies: _If only._ Then he grins at Jared’s smiley face.


	5. Twenty-Nine

  
**Twenty-Nine**   
_You can lose yourself in all this traveling around_   


If Jensen were ever honest with himself, he’d admit to hating his life and wanting it to be ten kinds of different. 

Problem is: he lies to himself just as often as he does others. Has for the last decade.

Into the new year, he tells his parents he’s getting better jobs, says he’s doing stagework and small commercials, stuff they’d struggle discover on their own but find respectable. He tells Chris and Steve that he’s fine, even though it’s obvious he’s not when he sulks and rolls his eyes on every occasion of them asking him when he’ll get back into acting. And he tells Jared nothing new, just shares tiny tidbits via text and random voicemails when they continue to miss making contact.

He reasons that he’s not exactly lying to Jared, but he omits more than he shares, and that’s enough for him to feel guilty about the whole matter.

*

“You could just start working again,” Danneel says before shoveling a forkful of salad into her mouth.

He stares at her, completely ignoring his sandwich. “I _am_ working.”

She stares right back. “You know what I mean.”

Pushing his plate forward, he rolls his eyes and looks off to the side where tourists roam the sidewalk and inspect every table for a celebrity. He gives one family, a set of parents and a few young girls who he figures would watch Disney, a small smile. They wander right by, and he scowls.

“You are miserable. I don’t know why you don’t change something.”

He looks at her again, wanting to smart off, but he knows she means it with the best intentions. She’s the only friend he has who does, he’s sure of it. “Like I wasn’t miserable before?”

“You were _less_ miserable.” She chews more salad and rests her chin on her hand, fork tight in her fingers. Then she points the utensil at him. “I know the last show is still sour in your mouth, but you have to move forward.”

“I have shit luck. What’s the point?”

“The point is you’re good and you’re wasting your time doing nothing.”

She’s not looking at him when she says it, which makes it easier to accept. He still snorts at her. “If I was so good, how come I’m not off filming some runaway hit?”

“What? Now we’re jealous of Jared?”

“I don’t know,” he shoots back. “Are you?”

Danneel gives him a look then dishes back, “It’s because you’re sitting here being a crabass and temping in stuffy offices.” 

“You know, you could be a little more supportive.”

“You could stop being bitter. It doesn’t help anyone.”

*

He calls Shelly, tucks his tail between his legs, and asks for new auditions.

She gives him a few leads, which he follows, even when he knows they won’t really go anywhere. At least he’s back out there, stands in front of people, feels the anxiety of auditioning and trying and hoping. 

It doesn’t help his self esteem or his overall attitude, but Danneel’s a little nicer to him and Steve helps him with lines. He considers it an improvement.

*

Jared still calls on occasion, though usually as a follow up to Jensen’s texts, checking in and seeing how things are going.

Once or twice, he catches Jared after he’s gone around most of Vancouver with coworkers, drinking enough that he’s loose and lazy in the conversation. It goes on forever, seems like, and Jensen can’t help the excitement at having Jared’s attention for so long.

The next morning, he’s a bit sleep-deprived from staying up on the phone, but he’s jumpy and smiling.

Danneel meets him for breakfast, and when she finally breaks it down and bursts his balloon, he scowls.

“You’re not even dating,” she points out gently.

“Sure we are,” he lies, to her, to himself. He knows it’s not actual dating, but he’d like to think that since neither is seeing someone else, it’s like they’re together. 

“You messed around with him a few times and he lives in another country.”

“Temporarily,” he grumbles. 

She covers his hand and squeezes, goes softer with her approach. “You haven’t seen him in four months.”

“Three,” he argues. Then relents: “Three and a half.”

“You haven’t seen his face in a long while and you play phone tag. It’s not dating.”

He’s bitter and can’t contain it. And he’s now pissed at her, no matter how much he knows it’s true. He stands up, tossing a twenty to the table and gives a shitty smile. “Thanks for that. Now I’m gonna go blow my audition because you’re a total buzz kill.”

She tries to keep him at the table, but he leaves.

Three days later, he gets the call. He sends her flowers in thanks for tanking his mood at that breakfast. His inward disposition and gruff manners actually turn him into one hell of a troubled man named Tom Hanniger.

*

After he orders Danneel’s flowers, he texts Jared: _Got a movie!_

Jared replies an hour or so later: _Was just gonna tell you I did, too! The Friday the 13th remake._

Jensen stalls and stares at the words. He’d heard about that, how the studios were pushing on a reboot. While he can’t figure the movie will be much more than a typical slasher flick, he knows it’s bigger than his cult redux. 

*

 _My Bloody Valentine_ films in Pennsylvania, which is perfect for the mining town setting, but lacking in anything else.

He spends most nights in his hotel room. That is until his cast mates start dragging him out to drink and fill up on food he normally couldn’t afford. 

There’s some money in the bank, so he spends what’s there, not used to this feeling. It’s been a year since he could say yes to splurging, since Disney. He thinks about how different this is: a G-rated, awkward teacher into a troubled horror film star.

It’s a strange transition, but he accepts it. Happily deposits the check.

*

Between his filming and Jared’s, they lose touch. 

It happens so easily that Jensen’s convinced Jared doesn’t want to keep up with him. He files that away as a lost cause and heads back to L.A. with the knowledge that his resume just got a little better and his wallet a little fatter. He even gets his own apartment; it’s a tiny one bedroom, but is less grimy and faces fewer liquor stores.

It’s one of the better feelings he’s had in a long while. It helps distract him from everything else that’s still broken.

*

He and Danneel sneak into a VIP party; she gets them into the club with her looks and by flirting with the bouncer, and he nearly seduces one of the waitresses to get them upstairs and into the roped off section.

They grin with their success and drink whatever’s offered at the tables, playing cool and acting like they belong.

Far beyond buzzed, they start dancing among the crowd, and it carries on that way for the rest of the night. 

A while later, his fingers fumble, typing _What’ve you been up?_ to Jared, not even caring that he’s likely far beyond the proper age to drunk text.

Just a few minutes pass and Jared texts back that he’s in town, asks where Jensen is. 

The bars are closing and it’s unlikely they can find some place in the middle, and Jensen thrills with the ability to proudly ask Jared over to his new place.

*

Danneel tsks at him, but she’s drunk enough that all she argues for is to share a cab home. He sees the judgment in her eyes and hears it in the tone that mumbles, “Six months, Jensen,” just before the taxi stops in front of her building. “You haven’t seen him in forever.”

“Yeah, but he’s coming to see me,” he argues back.

“Drunk and after hours. It’s not real.”

He hates the sympathy in her voice, hates himself for knowing she’s right. But he’ll take Jared however he can get him.

*

Jared’s leaning against the doorjamb when Jensen lets him in. They smile together, almost shyly, and then Jared slides forward and kisses him. 

He’s off balance, messy and sweaty in the California heat. But Jensen clutches his neck, fingers slipping into the hair, pulling him further inside.

They don’t pause for anything, moving right onto the bedroom, undressing each other, falling onto the bed with little grace. They’re drunk enough that there’s little in the means of foreplay or preparation, and Jared pushes into Jensen, all but forcing himself in. Jensen winces, but pulls Jared closer, kissing along his jaw and ear, coaxing him to continue.

It doesn’t last long, both anxious to go fast and rough. Jared moves quickly, pants through it all, pushes his face into Jensen’s neck as he fucks him. Jensen scrambles to hold onto Jared, back and sides slicked up with sweat and heat, but he doesn’t stop trying to touch. 

Jared comes with a long groan, pumps his hips through it, and moves back. Jensen’s legs wrap around his hips and bring Jared back. It’s a playful tug of war until Jared’s strength wins out and he pulls out of Jensen, discards the condom. He stretches out next to Jensen and teasingly strokes his hard dick. 

Jensen’s feet push into the mattress, his hips lift up, and he joins Jared’s hand to get him off. It doesn’t take long, especially when Jared stars mouthing along Jensen’s neck, licking and sucking just under his ear, setting Jensen’s senses off. 

Just after cleaning up, Jared rolls to his side, wraps an arm around Jensen’s waist, and falls asleep with a smile. 

Unlucky, Jensen stares at the ceiling for a bit, trying to not focus on Jared’s even breathing or the soft touch of fingers across his stomach. He tries even harder to ignore the way his heart pounds at the feeling.

*

With Jared knocked out in the early morning, Jensen goes outside to smoke. It’s the classic California style apartment building, just one long walkway on the second floor that leads to every apartment. He has no segment to himself, but he appreciates the open space. He stands out here more often than he’d care to admit, thinks about his life all too much.

He does it right now. Leaning against the railing and looking down on the courtyard, he falls into the deepest part of his brain. The one that loves knowing Jared’s in his bed, that Jared came to see him last night, that after a year and hardly seeing or talking to each other, Jared’s still interested. Jensen bypasses the part that echoes Danneel’s words, the one that recognizes nothing good will come from this situation. 

Jared’s success has made him busier than before, and when he’s not filming, he’s off with other people or back home in Texas with family and friends. And Jensen’s striving for his own success, which will only make seeing each other even harder. He knows it, but continues to tell himself that things could change.

He decides for the moment, he’ll take what he can get, because it’s better than before, better than nothing. Much like he figures on his career. _My Bloody Valentine_ isn’t Oscar-worthy, and it’ll likely do little more than give him something to put on his reel, but it’s a paycheck. He takes it for what it is: a chance.

*

Back in bed, he touches Jared’s chest, fingers smoothing a path down. He wraps his hand around Jared’s dick and strokes lightly. Jared groans and shifts. But when his eyes open, he gives a small frown and slides enough away that Jensen loses the hold. 

“Too tired,” he mumbles.

Jensen curses himself, completely solid in the knowledge of what he’s known since he got the text from Jared. It’s just sex and they were drunk.

*

Jensen goes back outside, again leans on the railing and smokes. He stews and berates himself, instantly wishes he’d gone to Jared’s so he could leave; he doesn’t have the nerve to wake Jared and kick him out, no matter how pissed he is in this moment.

The door squeaks open and Jared slips outside. He’s wearing only jeans and a v-neck, barefoot and carefully stepping on the warm cement. “Morning,” he says through a yawn, settling beside Jensen and knocking shoulders.

“Hey, surprised you’re up,” Jensen replies as level as possible.

“Someone kept getting up. Can’t exactly sleep like that.”

He nearly frowns at Jared’s crooked smile, motions with his fingers and the cigarette. 

Jared tucks his hands around the railing and looks down on his feet. It’s adorable to see him so tall and built since the last time they’d seen each other while looking reserved, almost shy. He taps his foot at the railing a bit then runs it right by Jensen’s own bare foot. “How’s everything going? Must be good if you got a new place.”

Jensen watches their feet together and smirks, chuckles when Jared looks at him with a confused smile. “Everything’s good,” he says easily, believing it for a second. “I had that movie,” he drags out.

“Oh my God,” Jared sighs, looking away for a quick second. When he turns back, he’s smiling and shaking his head. “I totally forgot. How was it? Did you like it? I don’t remember, was it your first?”

He chuckles with the questions. “I had some tiny role before, but this was … well, better. It was cool. I think it’ll do fine. Nothing big like a Jason movie,” he says, trying like hell to not have an attitude.

Jared just kicks at the railing and snorts. “Whatever, man. Horror flicks come and go.” He nearly cringes then puts a hand at Jensen’s shoulder. “But yours, I bet yours is gonna be awesome.”

“Thanks for the confidence,” he says as nonchalantly as possible. “It’s really just a paycheck for me.”

“Whichever … it’s good. I’m happy for you.” 

Jensen smiles because Jared does, and then the hand on his shoulder trails over to his back and rubs with care. Jensen tries harder than anything to not warm to it, but he can’t help it; it feels too good and comfortable. He leans into the touch and flicks his abandoned, burnt out cigarette to the ground below. “Want some coffee?”

Jared smiles more. “Yeah, sounds good.”

*

They spend the rest of the morning each in a corner of Jensen’s couch. Jensen rests his feet on the coffee table and Jared’s feet push into his thighs because they barely fit together. The coffee’s forgotten on the table and they’re hardly talking, just flipping through magazines and commenting on random articles, making relaxed conversation. 

Jensen can’t complain; Jared’s not running off; he’s hanging out, quiet and easy.

They only move for the bathroom or water, re-hydrating from all the drinking the night before. Jensen feels like a mess and knows Jared looks like one, but there’s still something stirring within when Jared comes back from the kitchen, leans over, and smiles before going all the way in to kiss. It’s short, but nice, and Jensen lightly hums with it.

Jared chuckles as he pulls back then frowns. “I have to go.”

“Oh, alright, yeah,” Jensen mumbles as he sits up. He tries to squash the disappointment; once he gets Jared in a normal, sober, comfortable situation, it has to end.

They walk to the door together, pausing for a moment to kiss goodbye then Jared smiles on his way out. Jensen wants to call out so many questions: _how long are you in town, when will I see you again, do you want to go out this weekend, what’s even happening here?_

But he just waves as Jared ambles down the walkway and to his car.

*

Shelly sends him on more auditions than he can manage. She’s all pepped up, says word was good on the movie, there are more options now. 

A good deal of him is excited and ramps up energy at every meeting, sure that he’ll get everything he looks at. But there’s still that part of him that’s waiting for the shoe to drop.

Neither happens. He ambles on without any major offers, turns down a few he can’t help but laugh over, and goes back to bartending. 

He’s at least grateful he lives in a healthier neighborhood now; the bars, clientele, and tips are better. It’s enough to get by.

The few times he texts or calls Jared, he doesn’t get a reply. He tells himself the guy’s busy, starting up promotions for his own movie, heading back to Vancouver for the show. He halfheartedly convinces himself of it.

*

The only promising script he reads is filming right when he has to promote _My Bloody Valentine_. It’s not a major promotional episode: a few small talk shows and events. But it’s enough that he’ll either piss of the _Valentine_ producers for taking the offer or he’ll miss out on a chance to do something he wants: actual, bonafide dramatic acting.

Shelly pushes him into promotions with a gruff, “You’re lookin’ a gift horse in the mouth. You get paid for these appearances.”

He sighs, rubs his eyes. “I’d get paid for another role, too.”

“Don’t piss off the machine. Trust me.”

Every cell tells him to do it, run forward, grab another opportunity. But he relents to the pressure and follows through on responsibility. 

*

At the premiere, he sees Jared on the other side of the walkway and flushes all over. Cameras make him blind, and he can barely manage a reaction to the guy who’s all smiles for reporters and tugging on the hand of a tiny brunette at his side.

It’s been months since he’s seen Jared, weeks since they touched base. He knows he really should not be surprised that there’s something else going on, that Jared isn’t alone. 

Jensen prays and hopes that he doesn’t run into Jared, clueless as to how he’ll react. Through the screening, every possible situation plays itself out and he’s jumpy and unable to calm down. 

He leaves his own movie.

*

Danneel meets him at a bar by his place and they drink beyond repair.

He’s grumbling about Jared, she’s politely dishing out ‘told ya so,’ and he’s not so graciously scowling at her.

“You ditched your own party, Jensen.” 

She looks sorry for him, and he hates that even more. “It was a stupid party anyway. Even stupider movie.”

“Yeah, but it was yours,” Danneel points out, hand rubbing over his. “Ten years and you finally get a movie –”

“Eleven,” he mutters into his glass.”

“ _Eleven_ years. And then you leave it. I don’t know what’s worse. That, or you running off with the idea you and Jared are together.”

“You’re not helping,” Jensen shoots back at her, anger fueled and misdirected thanks to the alcohol. “I called you to commiserate and to get wasted with me. You’re doing neither.”

“Okay, okay,” she relents with a small, comforting smile. “I’ll commiserate. But can I just say one thing?”

“No.”

“You’re such a sucker when it comes to Jared. You’re more miserable over him than you ever were over work.”

“Shut up,” he says and knocks his drink back in a long gulp.

To her credit, Danneel is controlled and uses the softest voice possible to break Jensen down. He still ignores her for the most part. But he’s shocked open when she says, “But look at the facts. It’s just been a couple hook-ups. You’re not doing anything else together.”

“No, no, no,” he insists. “Last time, he stayed in the morning and we hung out and just talked and read God damn magazines together. It was more than just fucking around.”

Danneel frowns with warmth in her eyes, murmuring a soft, “Oh, honey.”

He’s gone from the table and out the door, even with her following and calling his name. Her look says more than he can handle; she knows he’s gone for Jared.

It’s a warm night, but the breeze feels good considering how quickly they’d taken all the drinks. And considering how angry he is, the walk home feels good. 

She’s speeding up and walking along with him, heels clacking on the sidewalk the only sound between them.

He speeds up. “Fuck off.”

“Jensen, come on.”

“Go home,” he yells at her.

There are no words, but she slips her hand around his arm, holds on as he eases up and walks at a more regular pace. 

Danneel hangs onto his arm, resting her head at his shoulder as they head to his apartment in silence. 

He grabs at the hand wrapped around his arm and squeezes it in apology.

*

They drink more at his place. He ignores her insistence that he’s in love with Jared, that he needs to find a healthy relationship, needs to stop giving out more than he’s getting.

But he finds it’s hard to deny when he perks up at Jared’s text: _Missed the star of the show tonight. Out partying now?_

She leaps over the coffee table, going from the arm chair to the couch in seconds, and grabs his phone. 

“No, c’mon, give it back,” he whines.

“No way, no how. You can’t text in your state.”

Jensen rolls his eyes, then stops all thought as the room spins. “I was just gonna say we weren’t out.”

“No, you’re not replying to him. You’re not telling him to come over.”

“I promise I won’t do that. I’ll tell him to fuck off.”

She frowns. “You being bitter with him helps no one.”

“Oh, shut up,” he growls, sinking further into the cushions.

“I’m trying to help, Jensen. This is so unhealthy it’s making me sick.”

Jensen frowns, trying so hard to ignore her good intentions, but he can’t.

*

Danneel is passed out an hour later. He snatches the phone back from where she’d stuffed it into the chair cushions where she sleeps.

He’s weaving on the way to the bedroom, but still taps out a reply to Jared: _Don’t think you missed anything_. Then he drags off enough clothes to sleep in a shirt and boxers, falls onto the bed, and clutches the phone. 

It buzzes on his chest. _What do you mean?_

There’s a fire growing instantly and he angrily chuckles to himself. _Had your own company eh?_

Then he stops. He stares at the screen and starts to worry because this is exactly what Danneel said. Bitter and angry and unforgiving. It can’t go anywhere good from here.

_Long story, let me explain?_

Jensen huffs and clenches his eyes shut with the urge to throw his phone across the room. No matter how much he’s had to drink, everything seems so definite in this moment.

It’s not helping him in any way to hang onto Jared, to pray for the best story possible. He thinks of how far his stomach sunk at seeing Jared with another girl, how anxious he gets when he doesn’t hear from Jared for long stretches of time, how he can’t get his head wrapped around his own life without getting hostile over everyone else’s success, especially Jared’s.

He’s done, has to be, can’t do it anymore. He shuts off his phone and tosses it to the ground.


	6. Thirty

  
**Thirty**   
_Live a little closer to what is true_   


Over the final months of his twenty-ninth year, Jensen cleans house. Literally and figuratively.

His apartment is kept spotless on a daily basis. His wardrobe is upgraded as he tosses rags he’s kept for far too long. Then he stops drinking so much, goes on every audition possible, and pushes himself harder at every corner. 

Whenever Chris or Steve invite him to parties, he turns them down and fights over what’s more important: rubbing elbows with the upper class or paying his dues with small cameos and walk-on roles for second-tier cable shows. 

He answers work every single time.

*

Fame doesn’t catch on, but he’s working. People behind the scenes start to acknowledge him and his name floats around for more character roles that he can aim at.

On his thirtieth, Danneel takes him out for a fancy dinner and drinks at some place that the paparazzi lives. She jokes, “Make you feel like a real star on your birthday.” She’s done enough with her career to be mildly known, and their pictures are taken on the way in and out. He ducks his head while she smiles.

Danneel toasts to a new life, a better decade than the last. He warmly smiles, actually believes in it. 

He’s never set resolutions because he never believed in that kind of encouragement, but he feels like this is the time to start. He vows to push Danneel and let her shove him right back. 

After a handful of drinks, they shake on it. 

*

The summer floats by in a blur of random jobs and meetings and even more auditions. 

Shelly calls more, to the point that he’s actually annoyed by her voice. 

He shakes his head every time he hangs up on her, but then he smiles a little to know that she’s putting in more time for him.

She even takes him to lunch, to the sushi joint he used to work. It’s awkward but then he gets cocky to know that some other wannabe actor is serving their food while Jensen’s finally making a living.

He’s not rich by any means. There’s no way he’ll leave his apartment as soon as he’d like; he can’t upgrade that portion of his life just yet. But he makes enough to get by without complaint. 

Shelly says he smiles more.

*

A short break in September allows him to go home. His mother clutches him. His father cuffs the back of his head before pulling him in, too. 

When they ask what he’s been up to, he scratches the back of his head and says “Workin’, got a few things lined up.”

His mom pats his cheek and smirks. “We saw a few of the TV shows. But Jensen? That movie? I don’t wanna see you like that.”

He chuckles. “I know, you said that when it came out.”

For the first time in years, he’s more than ready to sit and talk with them, tell them what he’s doing. He’s not ashamed to admit that he spends some days on the couch with nothing but daytime TV to waste away breaks between jobs. It’s all different because he’s actually getting roles and they actually watch him on occasion, even for a small drop-in or five minutes of an hour-long drama. 

After dinner, Mackenzie shows him the folder of downloads on the computer where she stores all his clips.

He hugs her from behind, kisses her neck, and squeezes harder. 

Comfortable doesn’t begin to describe it.

*

A bit part in a Christmas romantic comedy brings him to the holidays. He’s silent on screen more than he isn’t, but it’s something.

He attends the premiere with Danneel as thanks for all she’s done to kick and force him into action. 

They’re happy and easy together, and he smiles for every camera, even when it’s still something he’s not used to. 

He doesn’t say that they’re together, but they both know how it looks. They’ve been photographed together enough times that most people think they are and the gossip mills run with it. It’s not a contract, but they acknowledge it helps a bit to be seen this way. 

She wraps a hand around his elbow and smiles with him. It’s an easy gesture they’ve done in dozens of places over the past year. Meaning, when she squeezes and leans in, he doesn’t expect it to be anything but casual. 

Jensen looks off to the side as she murmurs, “I think we oughta keep moving.” He follows her view even when she tries to pull him away.

Jared’s coming down the carpet, all cool and laid-back but looking better than ever. His star has gone higher than when Jensen last talked to him. It’s become a bit common for Jared or others on his show to attend premieres, have their faces out there, get a picture taken, so it’s not all too unexpected. 

“Let’s head inside,” she prompts, carefully pulling him away. 

Jensen follows, but shoots a few looks over his shoulder. He sees Jared catch him, sees how Jared’s eyes zero in on Danneel, too. Jared tips his head then gives a tight smile. Jensen turns and goes back inside before anything more happens.

*

They’re on far sides of the theater but Jared’s unmistakable with his height and good looks. He spends most of the movie watching Jared. He logs each time Jared laughs, when Jared smiles, how Jared’s head slants whenever Jensen’s on screen. And during one particular scene where Jensen’s character is soaked after a fight in the rain, shirt skintight, Jared bites his lip. 

Jensen shifts towards Danneel. “I can’t stand this,” he mutters.

She looks at him then leans up to see Jared, face lit by the screen and smirking at one of Jensen’s deadpanned lines. “You’re not running.”

His elbow presses hard into the armrest then he covers his mouth. “I know, I know. But, I just … shit.”

“What?”

“What do I do?”

“You try to enjoy the movie,” he insists, pulling his arm down and holding his hand in support.

He pays attention to the screen for two minutes then grumbles. “I hate watching myself.”

Danneel chuckles and squeezes his hand. “You’re not even in it that much. Stop being dramatic.” She leans in closer, murmurs, “Besides, you’re the one who’s on top of the night.”

Jensen looks left and sees Jared watching them for a moment before going back to the movie. He chuckles, lacking humor or anything that isn’t just a tangle of nerves.

*

They travel to a nearby club for the after party. They’re mingling and people talk to Danneel as much as they do Jensen, so it’s easy to get through, neither failing to enjoy themselves.

After a few drinks, he’s happy and warm and texts a few friends, his parents, and brother and sister; he tells them it’s gone well, even adds a smile at the end. A couple texts fly back in with various modes of congratulations, and he’s grinning in person. 

The phone buzzes again and his mouth stalls: _Almost surprised by how good it was_. 

He doesn’t know the number but he has a feeling. A scan of the room gives him Jared in the corner, eying him from behind a long sip from a glass. He flashes back to a year ago, that morning after when Danneel talked him into deleting Jared’s number so he wouldn’t do something foolish like text while under the influence. Jensen returns: _Should I be insulted you didn’t expect much?_

Jensen keeps watching Jared, sees the flicker of annoyance on his face before he fires back a response. 

_Are you? That’s not my intention._

_And what is?_ is sent back. Jensen’s heart is racing, so not wanting to play harshly, but he’s not sure where else to go.

_To give a friend a pat on the back._

Jensen finds Jared’s eyes and they’re softer than he’d expected. He’s staring, as is Jared, and Danneel appears at his side with a fresh drink and a smile. Jensen focuses on her, smiles with her excitement over a possible lead for a movie that she has to ask her agent about.

Jared texts: _You look happy together._

He flips between Danneel and Jared and back to her, but then she’s talking with someone she knows from a past project. Jensen swallows, makes sure she’s not watching him, and replies. _We’re not._

_Can we get a drink?_

Jensen smirks a little. _I already have one._ He spots Jared’s tired look and how his tongue pokes out from inside of his cheek in aggravation, and Jensen chuckles. 

*

They meet in a corner that’s not entirely deserted, but it’s thinned out enough to draw little attention. Jared leans across the bar-top table and smiles up at Jensen. “It really was good. You were, too.”

He tries for nonchalant by drinking, unwilling to smile for Jared. “I’m still stuck on you thinking it would suck.”

Jared laughs. “No, I never said suck.” He holds his glass between both hands and stares into it. “You just never know what you’re getting into when you go to these things. You know?” he asks, suddenly looking up. 

“I don’t go to a lot of these, so no, I don’t.”

He stands, plants his hands at the table,and looks uncomfortable. “Is there a reason you’re giving me a hard time?”

Jensen keeps his eyes to his drink as he sips, even shrugs, because he doesn’t know how to proceed. Everything in his mind is sour, and while he wants to give Jared a piece of mind, he’s trying to be better than that. 

With a nod, Jared finishes off his drink and puts the empty to the table. “Alright, I guess it’s not a big deal,” he says lightly. As he moves around the table, he pats at Jensen’s back with the other hand at his chest, and squeezes as he leans in. “I’m happy for you. You’re doing real good.”

Jensen’s hand covers the one at his chest and Jared stalls; his breath catches at the touch, feels warm all over, and wants more. “Who was the girl?” Jensen asks quietly. “From last year.”

“What about yours?”

“Good friend.”

Jared visibly swallows. “Old girlfriend.” Jensen’s face turns down, he’s sure of it, because Jared looks just a bit guilty. “We were giving it another go, but not all too seriously. I said so that night.”

Jensen snorts and turns towards Jared while releasing his hand. “I deleted the message.”

Jared smiles awkwardly. 

“And your number.”

“Are you kidding me?” he asks with a hollow laugh. 

The way Jensen looks away is sure to tell Jared it’s true, but he doesn’t say much more. Danneel is watching with a sad tip of the head and twist of the mouth. 

Jared follows the look and frowns. “This can’t be good.” They both see Danneel shake her head, roll her eyes, and turn away. “Does she know that you’re – ”

“She knows about you.” At Jared’s sharp look, he continues, “And me. She knows how I …” and he trails off, unable to admit it. Jensen shakes his head, steels himself, and straightens his jacket. “I should get back to her. She’s still my date and all.”

With a soft hand, Jared holds Jensen’s wrist. “Can we talk? Maybe figure this stuff out?”

It takes all he has to relive the anguish of nights wondering what they had between them, of not having Jared as he wanted. It takes even more for him to give a sad smile and walk away.


	7. Thirty-One

  
**Thirty-one**   
_I'll be me and you be you_   


He can’t gauge how he actually feels. On one hand: there’s pride and elation at acknowledging that he will likely just get more hurt to hang onto Jared, that he decided to walk away from that fate. On the other: it’s Jared. 

They cross paths at a few other events. Each time Danneel tells him she’s proud of him for keeping space. He tells himself that, too. 

Never makes it easier.

*

His life gets a bit better, more solid. A few small but important roles pop up here and there.

He goes home a little more, happy to see family, able to afford it.

His nephew starts to recognize him, calls him by name, dashes into his arms. Jensen’s heart beats double time whenever it happens.

*

There’s a break for a recurring role on a legal eagle type show. He’s guaranteed a handful of episodes with a real character to sink into it.

It films in Vancouver and he worries for twenty-four hours before he has to give an answer. 

Danneel sadly smiles, but still pushes him for it, so he accepts. 

Jensen bites his lip all through the flight up north.

*

It’s easier and cheaper for him to stay through the week and film during the week and spend weekends at the hotel. He gets to know some of the cast members, runs into people he knows from other shows, sees a country he’s never been to before.

It takes two weeks for him to run into Jared.

Unlike other times when it was not uncommon to be in the same place at the same time, Jared gawks at Jensen in the drug store. 

Jensen licks his lips and turns to face him, waving with a can of shaving cream in hand. 

“What’re you doing?” Jared asks with wide eyes.

He looks at the can and juggles it a little with nerves. “Thinking about shaving in the morning. Bad idea?”

Jared puts a box of toothpaste back onto the shelf and fumbles with a stack of others, pushes them all back into place with a frown. Jensen can’t help but chuckle. “You might look good with a little scruff,” Jared says easily. “Never know ‘til you try.” Then he pushes on, “What the hell are you doing here? Long way to go for Gillette.”

“I don’t know, it _is_ the best a man can get.”

Jared laughs then gives him a look. “Seriously. Please answer the question.”

He swallows, breathes deep, and smiles carefully. “Got a part on Judge and Jury for a few weeks.”

His eyes widen and he smiles. “You shittin’ me? I love that show. We watch it on Thursdays if we get out early enough.”

Jensen rubs a hand over his mouth to stop his own smile from being too broad. “There you go.”

“We should get dinner. Or drinks. Maybe coffee?” Jared rushes on.

He stalls for a bit, thinks it over. There’s not much else going on for him at night, but he still worries about letting Jared in only to be separated again. 

“Jared? You ready?” a girl calls out from the next aisle, moving closer. 

Jensen and Jared both look at her then each other and Jared pushes a hand out. “This isn’t, and she’s not – ”

“I’m not what?” she asks with a strange smile. 

“It’s cool,” Jensen says, even as his nerves are lit up and his fingers twitch. He berates himself for the reaction; he’s had it enough times where Jared’s concerned, he should be used to it. “Have a good one.”

He heads down the aisle but Jared’s right behind him, pulling on his arm then lifting his hands up to explain. “Seriously. It’s just a friend from on set.”

Jensen doesn’t want to care, but he does recognize that he’s relieved. He nods and takes a few more steps. But then he’s spinning the can in his hand and says, “Gimme a call.”

Jared’s smile is brighter than Jensen remembers, and his stomach flips at the image.

It flips again when Jared calls that night.

*

He’s uneasy when he enters the pub Jared’d suggested. It’s a casual place, and he feels just fine in a sweater and jeans, but it’s more than just the locale. It’s all about Jared, seated at the bar with a beer, and drinking rather quickly. When Jensen approaches, Jared puts the bottle down and rises immediately. 

Jared looks anxious, pushing hair back, rubbing palms over his legs, carefully smiling. It immediately calms Jensen. Though he doesn’t say so; he steadies himself into casually ordering a beer of his own and sipping before he gets into any conversation. Jared watches him with roaming eyes, taking in so much of Jensen right there: his face, his hands, his clothes, it’s too obvious.

“You’re making me nervous,” Jensen admits.

“Well, shit, at least we’re nervous together.”

Jensen chuckles and looks at the bottle in his hands. “So,” he draws out, unsure of what to really say. He asks, “How’ve you been doing?” as Jared asks, “Are you seeing anyone?”

They watch each other and Jensen sucks his lips into his mouth, bites into them then takes another drink. “Sorry,” Jared awkwardly chuckles and changes direction in the conversation. “I’m doing good. The show’s fine and I’m used to living up here now. Things are good. You?”

Jensen nods and raps his knuckles to the bar. “Yeah, things are better. Working a bit and getting out there. Nothing huge, but it’s going well.” Jared nods and takes a drink. Jensen carefully adds, “And no, I’m not seeing anyone.”

Jared looks over and there’s a shadow of a smile there. But then he looks back to his beer and twists his mouth up, trying to hide it. 

*

Depending on one’s point of view, it goes downhill from there.

They talk, joke around, tell stories about being on difficult – or particularly great – sets. It’s surprisingly simple once the initial nerves break. They’ve always gotten along, have always had a nice rapport; Jensen’s not too surprised that they rattle on until closing time.

Each beer is ice cold and flavorful, but once they settle into comfortable conversation, they drink slow enough that Jensen’s clear minded when Jared asks if he wants to come over.

There’s a thrill at Jared asking him. But he steels himself, clears his throat, and shakes his head. “Thanks, but I have to go in tomorrow. Not all too early, but I need my beauty sleep,” he jokes, trying to ease the rejection.

Jared nods, disappointed smile making Jensen feel bad, but Jensen knows he can’t put himself there. 

They part in the parking lot with a handshake. Jensen feels strangely satisfied with the evening.

*

Everything on set is easy and comfortable. It surprises him how effortlessly he navigates scenes and the cast, work with the director and producers. It makes him feel entirely too capable and proud. 

Especially since he’s doing it with Jared on the brain. He can’t forget that night, how relaxed it was in the middle, how easily they slipped into conversation. That he relished it and wants more.

Meaning that when he’s on set and Jared texts to ask if he wants to grab dinner, Jensen smiles more than he intends to and replies: _What’d you have in mind?_

_Know a place with great steaks. Surprisingly they know how to cook this far north._

Jensen chuckles and replies: _Sounds tasty. I’m there._

*

It’s quite a few steps up from the pub they met at earlier in the week, but they still quickly fall into conversation. 

Jensen’s laughing and smiling more than he had counted on, looking at Jared more. But he tells himself it’s because they’re not seated side by side. He has to look right at him when they speak.

They get into talk of home and families and share childhood stories, making the other laugh and smile, and Jensen ignores the warmth rising from beneath his skin at the moment. He tries hard to disregard every feeling that goes beyond friendship. 

Dessert and an extra glass of wine keep them another hour. Jensen hides the wish there was more to the dinner, more time to talk. But he also gathers himself up when it’s time to leave, and tucks his hands in his pockets through the parking lot.

“I had a really good time,” Jared says, nodding and genuinely smiling. “Thank you for meeting me.”

“Well, thanks for the food. It was better than I’d figured for up here. I owe you one,” and then he looks away. Jared’d paid, and he really just wants to stay on even ground with the matter, but he can’t ignore the fact that there’s little aversion to seeing Jared again.

And by the way Jared smiles, it’s obvious he reads Jensen’s face perfectly.

*

Jensen thinks about calling Danneel to discuss it. But the only way he can imagine that conversation going makes him sound like a hysterical child amped up by the person he likes finally showing interest. 

Instead, he plays it cool, tells her work is good, and then casually drops that he’s seen Jared.

“Really?” she asks all too interested. “And did you ignore him? Get all bitter and ‘I’m better than you’?”

He clears his throat. “No. Actually. We had beers.” There’s a long pause then he adds, “And dinner.”

“Who paid?”

“He did.”

“Really? For both?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles oddly. “Yeah, he did. And he’s calling and texting and it’s like … This is something entirely different. I don’t know what it is, but …”

“Be careful, please?”

“Dan, I know – ”

“Jensen,” she stresses. “Please. You were all tore up every time he dropped off the grid. Just, watch for it, okay?”

There’s a long, deep breath and he holds it, thinking everything through. Danneel’s right, he knows it. But he also knows that he’s different, and Jared seems it, too.

He tells himself it doesn’t hurt having a friend in Vancouver off the set. It makes him feel like he’s living a life instead of just jumping from one job to the next.

*

Jensen treats to Italian, and Jared pays for margaritas at a small, out-of-the-way Mexican place that he favors. 

Every few days, they get together and trade on paying the check, and it goes by all too quickly that Jensen doesn’t comprehend how it’s happened so often. 

He does recognize that each time they sit down at a restaurant or bar, there’s a moment of hesitation and silence. And it’s worse at the end of the night. But they both survive and he gets out of each situation unscathed. He refuses to give in to temptation.

*

Jared invites him over to watch Sunday football, insists they watch the Cowboys together and cheer on the home team. Jensen laughs at it but still brings beer, happily accepting Jared’s grilled foods.

They talk between plays, joke about past seasons, and get a bit into projects they each have on the horizon. 

The afternoon floats on easily; Jensen barely realizes it’s getting dark until he’s warm with beer and full on Jared’s cooking. 

He sinks into the couch and groans, rubbing at his stomach. “God, can’t remember the last time I had a decent meal.”

Jared elbows him. “What about Francesco’s?”

“Oh, man,” he chuckles, remembering the Italian place where they both loaded up on appetizers and multi-course meals. “Okay, yeah. But sitting at home and just eating. That’s what I mean.”

There’s a soft smile on Jared’s face then he looks back to the TV, oddly quiet. 

Jensen decides to not comment on it and watches TV as well.

*

When he leaves, Jared walks him to the door. Jensen stalls at the foyer then tucks his hands into his pockets so he won’t be tempted into something like touch or hug or grab. “Thanks for having me over. It’s nice to get out, you know?”

Jared nods. “I do. That’s why I keep asking you out.”

He watches Jared, tries to gauge if he’s embarrassed by the statement. But he isn’t. He looks right back at Jensen. “Jared,” he trails off.

“What did you mean that night?” Jared asks quickly. “The night of your movie, when you said that your friend knew about me?”

Jensen looks everywhere but Jared. He licks his lips, bites into them, pops them out on the thought. He won’t be in Vancouver much longer; it can’t hurt to just admit it and be done with it all. To put words to his emotions. “She knows how I feel about you.”

“Which is what?”

The earnest tone troubles Jensen, and he sighs while closing his eyes. “Jesus, Jared.” Then he looks right at him, right into his eyes. “You had me from day one,” he admits quietly. “And I just kept hanging on to it all, but nothing ever came together. You know how hard that is?”

“Yeah, I do,” he says gently, looking down at one foot shuffling along the floor. 

Jensen waits on the explanation, and it takes a while until Jared speaks. 

“You think it’s easy to hang out now and not do or say something to scare you off? It’s like the slowest courtship ever. Slower than junior high.” They both chuckle awkwardly, and Jared smiles a little. “I mean, even then, I got to second base.”

There’s great power in having Jared’s confession. Jensen’s no longer alone in this; he has to give the green light here. And he’s tipping towards doing so, but he thinks better of it. He considers the fact that he’ll return to L.A. in another two weeks; Jared won’t.

“I should go. It’s getting late,” Jensen says carefully. 

“Okay, yeah, sure,” Jared nods with an awkward smile.

Once the door’s open and Jensen’s through it, he breathes fresh air and relaxes long enough that he just lets himself be. Lets it all go. 

He turns back to Jared and kindly smiles, steps up, and kisses him. It’s just a soft press of lips and doesn’t last very long, but it’s enough that Jared kisses back and his hands cradle Jensen’s elbows.

“I should go,” Jensen says as he pulls back.

Jared’s hands slide down Jensen’s arms and squeeze his wrists before letting go and nodding.

As Jensen trails down the sidewalk, he rubs a thumb over his lip, tries to wipe away the taste of Jared. Because he only wants more.

*

Jensen’s tense for days, because despite how much authority he’d told himself he has where Jared is concerned, he’s right back where he’d been for the past few years. Trying to get through the days while waiting on the phone.

For the past few weeks, Jared had kept in touch at a near-daily record. He’d text random thoughts from set, tempt Jensen with local places to eat or hang out, and ask how each day was going.

Three days pass with no word.

*

Jensen thinks about going back to L.A. for the weekend before his last week of work. He can visit with Danneel, catch up with Steve, and avoid sitting around the hotel for hours on end.

The timing is so exact that as he’s on the phone with the airline to book his flight, it beeps for Jared’s incoming call.

He struggles with hanging up on the operator, but finally flips to Jared’s call. “Hey, what’s up?” he asks as casually as possible.

“I just got off set for the day. I was wondering what you were doing tonight?”

Jensen chuckles and decides to trying being honest with them both. “I was actually trying to get a flight home.”

“Oh, you’re visiting your folks?”

“No, L.A. I was thinking it’d be better than wasting another weekend here.”

“Oh, right,” Jared says awkwardly. “Well, what if we hung out? Then you wouldn’t waste all the days away. It’s your last free time here after all.”

He swallows, stumbling over an answer because of how sincere Jared sounds. “What’d you have in mind?”

Jensen would kick himself for it, but Jared suggests dinner, maybe some sightseeing over the weekend, and he has to admit it sounds like a decent idea.

*

After dinner that night, they go to Queen Elizabeth Park. Jared raves about it, says it’s the highest point in the city and has a full-circle view. 

Jensen chuckles because Jared’s nerves are at an all-time high. Then Jensen sobers and asks, “This is a date-date, isn’t it?”

Jared scratches through his hair and keeps walking, refuses to look over. “They were all supposed to be date-dates. But it didn’t quite work out that way.”

“You didn’t call,” Jensen says abruptly. “You were texting and calling me all the time but you haven’t since your house.”

“I didn’t want to push it. Or you. I wanted to call so bad, you gotta believe me,” he rushes on.

Jensen chuckles. “It’s okay. I do.” Jared’s smile hits him right in his stomach, and he turns to keep walking, stay distracted. “So what else is so fabulous about this place?”

Jared directs them to the Quarry Gardens then through the sculptures, and for as much as Jensen wants to mock Jared for bringing them to a park under a pale sky, he has to admit it’s a nice change to see something in this city aside from TV sets and hotels.

*

Jensen won’t lie to himself, even if Jared is playing it cool. The ride back to Jared’s house is not meant for just a drink. 

To his credit, Jared does keep a distance in the kitchen after pouring a glass of wine. And he doesn’t push much besides sitting on the back deck to enjoy the cool summer night. 

Jensen follows every step. And when Jared heads inside for the bathroom, Jensen goes to the kitchen for more wine. He sips rather easily then puts the glass aside when Jared enters. He decides to stop trying so hard, to just let things go. His fingers twist in Jared’s shirt, pull him closer, and he’s leaning up to kiss. Jared immediately holds Jensen’s face, opens up to the tongue, and kisses back with more emotion than Jensen had anticipated.

They’re pressed into the counter while Jared looms over him, kissing and touching, hands roaming his back, stalling at his hips, before moving right back up to his neck. Jensen breaks the kiss long enough to ask, “Where’s the bedroom?”

Jared stares. “You sure?”

“Are you really asking that?”

He laughs then kisses Jensen again. “Okay, okay,” he mumbles between kisses, smiling into Jensen’s mouth. 

Jared leads them up the stairs and down the hallway, holding Jensen’s hand the whole time. He squeezes when they enter the room then pulls him close and starts kissing again.

They fumble while undressing each other, onto the bed, all through kissing and touching more bare skin than Jensen can remember Jared having. Jared’s long and firm and unbelievably tan; Jensen can’t stop his fingers from walking across every inch of him. Then he leans in to taste Jared’s neck, his collarbone, his shoulder. It’s a sweet-salty flavor, and Jensen hums with it.

Jensen’s hand slides down Jared’s chest, over his dick and balls then back up as he grabs and massages. Jared hitches into it, nearly begging. “God, yes, Jensen, please, want you to.”

His breathing stops as does his hand. Jensen buries his face into Jared’s neck and slowly rubs him again, eliciting the most tantalizing moans. He can’t help but grind down on Jared’s leg, feel the hard muscle press against his own hard-on. 

Jared pulls his knees up enough to give Jensen more pressure and room to touch. Jensen’s hand drifts lower, fingering at Jared’s hole, and Jared whimpers with it, they both do. Jared shifts away to grab lube and a condom, and Jensen’s slicking his fingers in no time. 

Through opening Jared up, Jensen can’t ignore the keening and murmurs, can’t help but be turned on to an impossible degree. When he slicks up his own dick and prepares to push inside, he has to stop and steady himself, make sure it’s not over too soon because he’s over-stimulated with Jared and his body and his sounds. 

He enters in a long, slow push and fucks just as slowly. Jared’s legs open wider then wrap around Jensen’s hips, feet tight at Jensen’s ass to pull him closer. They move together, one drawn-out roll of hips, over and over. It’s not frantic by any means, but they don’t last long, senses too heightened by the night’s tension and the long build up of the last few weeks.

Jensen comes while he’s buried in Jared and their mouths are sealed together. The pressure makes Jared groan and push on Jensen until they both stroke him through his orgasm. 

After the condom is tossed and they’re back to steady breathing, Jensen lays out next to Jared with his eyes plastered to the ceiling. They close when Jared’s fingers slip around his.

*

Jensen leaves in the middle of the night. He rouses Jared enough to say goodbye and drop a quick kiss. 

His gut’s twisted up and he can’t function when he gets back to his hotel. He tries to sleep, shuts his eyes, waits for it, but it never happens. He’s groggy and inhaling coffee on set. He keeps to himself so he doesn’t seem anything but quiet and professional.

Just before lunch his phone buzzes with Jared’s text: _I had a great time even before you know what. Can I see you again?_

Jensen smiles. It’s more than he’s had before.

*

They spend all weekend together. Some hours are wasted on sight seeing, others with eating out and grabbing drinks at different bars Jared’s gotten to know over the last few years of working and living there. They even spend time inside that’s normal and civilized. 

It reminds Jensen of that one morning they scrunched into his couch, read magazines, and drank coffee. Except it happens every day that he has left in Vancouver.

*

The few times Jared mentions having dinner in or hanging out, it’s been his house. When Jensen returns from set, he’s taken aback with Jared in the hotel lobby. 

Jared’s self-conscious as he stands, abandoning an arm chair that seems much too small to keep him. 

“Everything okay?” Jensen asks as he approaches.

“I was going for a surprise visit –”

“Surprised indeed,” he smiles.

“Apparently you don’t use your own name, so I couldn’t get your room.”

Jensen logs Jared right here, awkward and reserved and so much unlike the slicked up guy who came and went as he pleased that Jensen had wanted for all those years. He’s better now, the both of them. 

The first few times with Jared in Vancouver, he’s hid smiles and swallowed laughter. Here, he lets both go as he leads Jared to the elevators. “No, I don’t use my own name. I’m not famous like some people I know, but I’ve had a few run-ins.”

Jared smiles as they enter the elevator and leans against the wall. “What’s your name?”

“Jason Mahogoff.” They both snort then Jared laughs and pats Jensen’s shoulder. Jensen reaches forward, hand to Jared’s back and smoothing over his shirt; it’s comfortable. “No one will guess that one.”

“No, they won’t,” Jared says as he slides closer. His arm rests over Jensen’s shoulders, pulls them together. Jared kisses Jensen’s temple and keeps his mouth there. “What’d you want for dinner?”

Jensen takes his time to think, but doesn’t come up with an answer. All he knows is Jared is firm and warm along his side. “Doesn’t matter.” 

“Your turn to pick.”

He looks at Jared, thinks about the last week of being with him, hates it’ll come to an end. He doesn’t comment on it; he decides to live as is and value the company.

*

Jensen’s set to fly out in the early evening of his last day of filming. Jared meets him at the airport, rushing from his own set, looking harried and nervous.

It’s oddly comforting to know that Jared will miss him, that he says so with his words, tight hug, and soft kiss. 

“I’ll be back in town in a few weekends, and it’s a long break. Maybe we can get together,” Jared hurries to say.

Jensen smiles carefully, does his best to believe it. “Yeah, we can. Call me when you’re free.”

He expects to hear from Jared in a few weeks. He calls the next day.


	8. Thirty-Two

  
**Thirty-two**   
_Growing up is more than just living through the years_   


For Jensen's thirty-second birthday, Jared flies into L.A. He arranges a small, quiet dinner at one of Jensen’s favorite restaurants. Danneel and Steve and a few others join them. 

Danneel can’t stop staring at Jensen’s smile, but then they’re grinning together. 

*

He still hasn’t struck gold, doubts he ever will. But he’s employed more often than not, and he considers it a blessing when he can have a day out with little fanfare.

He saves enough money that he gets a new place and a new zip code. Still isn’t stellar by any means, but he’s moving forward and grateful for it.

It’s a three bedroom split two ways because Jared leases his condo out, being in Vancouver so often, and when he comes in, he stays with Jensen. 

*

While Jared’s off filming, he texts all sorts of things; Jensen’s used to the randomness by now. But he’s caught off guard when he reads _Interviewer asked me if I was single. I stuttered. Maybe said no. Did I just lie?_

Moments like this remind him of what he saw in Jared that first day: light, humor, beauty, and warmth. There was a future in those eyes. 

Jensen didn’t know it’d take some time to get there. 

_No, not a lie._

**End**


End file.
